M.L.S. Weech's Blog, page 70

The June Book Cover of the Month Starts Now

[image error]Happy first everyone! As is now officially tradition here on my blog, it’s time to start a new book cover of the month competition.

The Flipside by Jake Bible  and A Guiding Light by Susan Copperfield join 30 brand new covers this month.

You can vote all the way through the tournament, supporting the covers you like best through each round. I like to make sure people get the credit they deserve, so please show your support. Please vote and share as much as possible to get people a chance to pick their favorite.

As always, I’d appreciate it if you tag the authors and artists if you know them. I try to tag or friend every author I can, but sometimes it’s hard to track someone down. Max participation is a huge deal to me. The more people who vote, the more recognition these authors and artists receive, and I want this to be as legitimate as possible.

[image error]Image taken from Pixabay.

If you are the author, let’s remember to be good sports! 1) Please feel free to message or contact me at any time. 2) Please feel free to like, share, text, ask for support, and call everyone you know. I absolutely want max participation. However, if you’re going to offer giveaways or prizes, please offer them for voting, not just voting for you.

Also, while your summoning your army of voting soldiers, please make sure you ask them to vote in every match. Part of the idea of this is to get exposure to as many artists and authors as possible. By all means, if you can get 1,000 people to vote for your book, do it. Just please also send some eyeballs to the other matches.

A final note to authors and artists: I currently have links to the books’ Amazon pages. If you’d prefer I switch that link to sign up for your newsletter or like your social media page or whatever, just send me the link and let me know. I want this to help you. I want this to be as helpful as possible, so whatever you need me to do to facilitate that, just let me know.

I hope you keep having fun. Please, vote, share, and discuss as much as possible.

All you have to do now is head over here to vote!

Thanks for reading,

Matt

A Few Updates On What I’m Up To

Greetings all,

Turns out, I’m pretty darn busy!  So I wanted to let you all know where I’m at with some projects.

[image error]First: The Beta Draft of Stealing Freedom (previously Worth of Words) is done! I’d like to take a quick moment to thank the beta readers who helped me. Feedback is incredibly important, and I want to make sure I offer my gratitude when someone takes the time to help me look at my work more critically.  So please help me in thanking Carlos, Deborah, Kevin, and Julie. They all provided great insight.  I always look for overlap in stories.  I think some authors overreact to beta readers sometimes, so I try hard to put equal weight. I might shit something because of one reader comment if I feel like I was already worried about it.  I left last names out for privacy reasons, but I hope they see this, and I hope they know how appreciative I am. I hope they love the final product as much as I do.

Second: The Power of Words anthology is just about ready for final edits.  We’re wrapping up a few loose ends, but I expect to be sending Sara the whole project pretty soon (maybe a week).

[image error]Art by Collin Fogel . 

Third: The final part of The Journals of Bob Drifter is scheduled to come out Aug. 1. Something Always Remains is a very near-and-dear bit of writing to me. I felt this conclusion really put a nice touch on a story I’m still proud of. Bob taught me a lot about the craft and the business, and I’ll always be glad it was my first published book. When this part drops, it’ll make it possible for readers to try a part or the whole story if they so choose. I’ll make sure to get The Power of Words to Sara first, but this is my next priority.  I just need to get it formatted for Kindle and get the cover finished (title and author text).

I’ll have more deals with that too. Just stay tuned for those deals as I get closer to publishing.

Fourth: I’m selecting a narrator for Caught.  I received 12 auditions.  Five of those are on the short list, and I’m pulling my hair out trying to pick the right one as I type this. I don’t really think I can miss with any of them.  I’ll happily make an announcement once the contract is set up.

Fifth: I have the edits for Repressed done, and I have a verbal agreement with a narrator for that as well.  I’ll make an announcement about that the same time I finish the final draft of that story.

Finally: Shore Leave is next week.  I’m honestly a bit bummed I’m selling books at the event.  I mean, William Shatner, Ming-Na Wen, Shawn Ashmore, and Allison Scagliotti will all be there, and they’re awesome people!  I’ll see if my girlfriend let’s me scamper off and get some autographs. That said, I probably should sell some books (I’d be much obliged if any reading this give one a try), and I have three panels I’m on as well. Caught and An Unusual Occupation will each be 99 cents during that weekend (July 6-8). I’m looking forward to seeing some of the readers I’d met before. I hope to meet some new ones. If you’re in the Hunt Valley, Maryland, area I’d love to see you there.

I’m super excited about this month. A lot of good things are happening, and I just wanted to share all of this news with you.

Thanks for reading,

Matt

Story Review: Moth to Flame from Posh Bytes by C. Rose

[image error]Spoiler Free Summary:  In Moth to Flame by C. Rose, Clover Moth gets in over his head as he’s set up to take the fall for hacking his company. His only possible source of help? Valerian is a mysterious bar owner who gives Moth a path to follow that will only make his situation worse. Moth must convince Valerian to help him get out of the situation she put him in.

Character:  Moth is the person who shows us the story, but it’s Valerian who grows in this particular story. I honestly wish I had more from this character and a bit more from this story. It felt a tad rushed to me. It wasn’t bad, but I found myself wanting a bit more development from the characters.

Exposition: This probably went back to Rose’s norm for this anthology. It wasn’t bad, but there were some data-dump sections that I wish would have been different. They weren’t excessive, but they were notable.

Worldbuilding: This story does expand a bit more on the lore of this world.  It introduces another dimension that I wish I’d had another story on. I won’t detract from this anthology because I wanted a few more stories, but this story took the most dramatic turn in this regard. Valerian’s origins were what fascinated me, and I wish I had more.

[image error]Dialogue: This was probably the main narrative device for Rose in this story. It drove most of the plot and events. It wasn’t stilted, but the dialogue was why I felt most of the plot was a bit forced. Rather than show things that could be translated visually, the characters talked. It’s a technique a lot of people do.  I just wish I had more actions and demonstrations to go along with the talking.

Description:  Rose got a bit more visceral.  Where the other stories saw a jump in physical descriptions, this story opens up some other senses that give this story a bit more of a realistic feeling.

Overall:  This story put ponderous end to Posh Bytes, but this book still sits high on my list of books read this year so far, even after all the books I’ve read after. I still stand behind my opinion that this book has a very “Hugo” worthy feel to it. It’s great for speculative fiction fans who like a bit of morality in their scifi. I was glad to meet the author and to have read this book.

Thanks for reading

Matt

Testimony: My Trial of Faith as My Mom Struggled With Cancer Part 17

See Part 1 here.

See Part 2 here.

See Part 3 here.

See Part 4 here.

See Part 5 here.

See Part 6 here.

See Part 7 here.

See Part 8 here.

See Part 9 here.

See Part 10 here.

See Part 11 here.

See Part 12 here.

See Part 13 here.

See Part 14 here.

See Part 15 here.

See Part 16 here.

The Visit

I got on a plane at around 7 p.m.  I landed in Phoenix at about 9 p.m., but with time difference, that means I was in the air for about five hours. When I landed, I linked up with my sister and her children. We jumped straight in the car and took the three-hour drive into Yuma.

By the time we got to another relative’s house, it was one in the morning, and I was exhausted. I went straight into a room, said my prayers, read my Bible and passed out.

We drove to my parents house the next day.  Mom answered the door. I tend to seem unsympathetic.  I might actually be unsympathetic. I’ve always confessed I’ve never been the most sympathetic person. I am, however, empathetic, not like one of the characters in one of my books, but still fairly able to understand the emotional temperature of the room.

I say all of this because my arrival wasn’t some made-for-tv sort of moment where we hugged and cried. That’s just not how our family works. I hugged her. It was startling to see how much weight she’d lost. To be clear, she didn’t look frail, except she’d lost a lot of muscle weight in her legs, which causes her to have trouble standing after sitting down.

She still looked like mom. I honestly had this mental picture of her having been shaved bald.  That wasn’t the case. The sides of her head had clearly been shaved, but it had grown back in the time since her surgery. Honestly, she looked much better than the mental picture I had in my mind.

We all sat down.  My first concern was talking to my mom. I asked her how she was. I asked her about the new procedure she was about to start. Then, I asked her if she was ready for it.

“Yeah.”

Talking to my mom is a bit tricky.  What I knew right away was that my mom is still in there. She’s still mom.  She’s restless and relentless. She wants a clean house. She wants to talk to and play with her grandkids. I think her lack of ability to communicate, and the physical toll this illness has taken, caused her to feel like she’s a burden.  The woman who was obviously the back-bone to my entire family wasn’t happy needing help.

While mom is still mom, it seems like someone took her entire lexicon and scrambled it. She knows what she means, but she’s using words that don’t match her intended meaning.  She’ll use one familial term when she means the other.  She’ll use one adjective and mean something else. Then she has a few words that sort of sound like placeholders for a lot of other words. “Flaming (or flame)” is the one I remember most. She might be talking about her carpets or a bedroom or even the walls.  This means that talking to her requires a lot of patience and a great deal of translation. However, she’s very good at answering questions, so I quickly realized asking her yes/no questions was a good approach.

That day was a lot of conversation, but it was also incredibly mundane. Were it not for my mom’s struggle with word choice, it would have been like any other visit. She sat there while my dad and I watched the game. My nephew played around the house while my niece reclined on a chair, working on her phone.

In the last segment, I talked about my mantra. Listen, and be supportive. So once Mom said she was ready to take on this new challenge, I looked at my dad, sister, and mom, and said, “So we’re all on the same page. We’re going to do this treatment and see how it goes.”

Seeing my mom walk around and talk and play with her grandchildren really boosted my mood. I think it helped my sister too. I have it easy. I saw mom up and about, complaining that her house wasn’t clean “enough.” I’ve never had to take her to a hospital. I’ve never had to see her lie in a bed, unable to move a limb or even most of her body. For those in my family who had to sit through that, I can’t even imagine the worry that would bring.

Once we started talking about how we got to this point, the reason the problem existed served to become the source of friction in the family. There are actually other sources of friction, but the one causing the most pressure was the manner in which one describes what’s happening.

The surgeon said the tumor had grown and that it was inoperable. This is the individual my sister trusts.  Why not? He’s the doctor who performed that first surgery on my mother.

The oncologist said that the MRI was inconclusive. The swelling and fluid in my mother’s brain was simply too bad for us to really know what was going on. This is the individual my father would quote.

Early on in this testimony, I mentioned my mom qualified for a new, experimental treatment. I’m not speaking on the overall effectiveness of this treatment, but it didn’t work for my mother. She consistently needed to be checked in to the hospital for various side effects. The worst issue wasn’t caused by that as I understand it.  The biggest issue always happened when they tried to ween my mom off the steroids. Please do not take this as a statement of my opinion of the experimental treatment. I don’t have nearly enough data.  All I know is what happened this time with my mom.

As true as that statement is, my sister worried that this approach might be just another excuse to try another experimental treatment. If anyone suspected that, I can only imagine how much distrust and anger that would generate.  I don’t know. I literally have no idea. I’ve never met the oncologist, but while listening, I realized that was my sister’s opinion. I don’t have time to investigate the motives of this oncologist, so again, please don’t take this as a statement of truth.  The only verified truth of what you’re reading here is what my sister felt.

So when facing a new round of treatment, how natural would it be to feel that it might just be a new thing to try? If one believes a doctor is just looking to push the boundaries of science, who would volunteer their mother to be the lead subject?

My dad offered the most logical source of relief. This treatment, avastin infusion, is a normal, FDA-approved treatment. It’s not experimental.  In fact, regardless of possible motives or which of the two sources of information was correct, this treatment is the solution.

Avastin (more scientifically called Bevacizumab), is indeed used as treatment of gioblastoma. It is used specifically for brain tumors that were resistant to previous treatments.

The link I gave you, a link to the NPS Medicinewise website, gives the eye-crossing science of it, but here’s what I know I know.

Avastin essentially cuts off the blood (and therefore the food) supply to tumors. This should stop, or at least slow, the tumor’s growth. It also reduces swelling, which is what the steroids were for. The problem with steroids is that using that much for that long on my mother would eventually just contribute to the problem. So this treatment should work against the tumor while reducing the swelling that’s causing problems.

The plan is to administer a few (three) treatments and then take another MRI to see how things are going.

Knowing this was a normal, FDA-approved course of action put my sister a bit more at ease. I sat there, listening to the discussion. Frankly, I got pretty upset at the team caring for my mom. Being in the military taught me something about communication: When you can, go straight to the source. My frustration was that two people even spoke to my family. I’d be fine with the whole team being in the room to answer specific questions, but man would my family be a lot less stressed if one guy gave us one situation and then provided the list of options to which my father referred when I called him the day before. I’m not saying they’re horrible people or anything.  This conflict had way more to do with the team’s communication skills than their medical skill.

Frustration or no frustration, it provided a very clear line in which my family could stand on opposite sides.

The first task was making sure everyone was supportive of the current course of action. We got there pretty quickly.  I’m still not sure how well I did anything else.

It’s difficult because my family hans’t been united for a very long time. My biological father molested one of my sisters. That divorce did a lot of damage. It damaged our faith:

When my mom was about to move us out, the church we attended at the time saw fit to visit (en mass). They told her, and I still remember the quote.

“You need to get over it and keep your marriage together.”

They argued the sanctity of marriage to my mother, who was trying to get our family (and the rest of her daughters, three of which still lived at home) away from this person who committed this awful act.

I feel compelled to explain something. Matthew 5:32 makes one thing perfectly clear, “But I tell you that anyone who divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, makes her the victim of adultery, and anyone who marries a divorced woman commits adultery.”  That word “except” starts the most important prepositional phrase ever in terms of divorce and Christianity. No, a person is not obligated to get a divorce, but my mother was in every Biblical right to divorce my bio-dad.

Apparently that church forgot to read that particular verse in the Bible. As I’ve read and studied the Bible, I’ve come to see that church was (I have no idea what it’s doing these days) sadly misguided in their actions and woefully inaccurate in its doctrine. My greatest obstruction in my walk with Jesus is without a doubt false teachers. I encountered more, but this particular event was what drove the wedge between my family and the Church (if not God Himself).

My bio-dad’s abuse fractured our family: The chain of events that started on that day only got worse and worse, particularly for my sister.  This sister is not the one with whom our mother stayed. I have a lot of sisters.  I commonly call this sister my oldest, but that’s only accurate in terms of siblings I spent a large portion of my life with. Each time something happened, more wedges were driven. We were separated from people we love. The desire for acceptance and attention became critical. Our motivation was validation through gifts and words of affection.

Mom fought to keep us together. Mom fought to make sure we got along. I don’t know if my siblings share this opinion, but I feel that what happened was we all chose to compete for her affection rather than love. It’s shown in various ways. The most common would be to raise ourselves up by speaking ill about the others. I am easily as guilty of this as anyone else in my family.  Rather than being good children and good siblings, we competed to be the best child.

How I wish we’d studied the Lord’s Supper at some point.  How could we though? We’d already been poisoned against God’s words by a list of false teachers.

During the Lord’s Supper, the apostles began a competition to determine who among them was the best. Jesus responded to this debate by washing the feet of each of his apostles. When every one of Jesus’s most trusted disciples were fighting over being the greatest, Jesus showed them the way by doing the most demeaning, humiliating service that could be done in this time. See Luke 22, Matthew 26, Mark 14, and John 20.

Here we are, nearly 30 years later. When my family got that news, words were said. Feelings were hurt. Yes, I know that’s passive voice.  To make the phrase active, let’s say, accurately, that relatives did things and/or said things to each other that hurt. I don’t need to (or want to) list the accusations or perceived offenses.  What I want is for you readers to try and imagine how a family hardened by nearly 30 years of stress  would react when the  central foundation of that family is the person we’re fighting over.

My efforts are to change the wording of this. Rather than fighting over, I hope to get to a place where we’re fighting with her.

For those families split by atrocity, whatever it may be, I ask you to be sure that your focus is on the family as a unit. It was hard for my mom. I didn’t make it easy. I was a prideful, hateful little bastard. I wasn’t exactly an angel before the divorce, and when it happened I, who bear a tremendous physical resemblance to the bio-dad, felt powerless, and I sought power by lying and undermining everyone I could. Even when I realized how selfish and hateful that course of action was, I still sought to be the most loved so that I felt like I was the least like the man who I still recognize because the face in the mirror is hauntingly, agonizingly so much like the face of the man I still struggle to forgive.

Those are my wrongs. Those are my crimes, and in this tale I focus on what I am doing and what I can do to be better.

All of my siblings struggle with this history. I’ve found immense comfort in studying the Bible and applying what it has taught me. So once we all acknowledged that this course of action was the right one for mom, I did the only think I knew was right.

I asked what I could do to help, and I did it. Then I had to keep working with my sisters to at least act like the children we should be.

 

 

Questions and Revelations

You actually want to forgive that molester? 

That’s the real problem. You see, the fact is, I know I should. We should forgive others, so that we are forgiven (Matthew 6:14).  That verse doesn’t say, “unless he did something really bad.” In fact one of the biggest issues facing the world today is the idea that there are “lesser sins” and “greater sins.” The simple fact is, sin is detestable to God (Proverbs 6:16) That particular reference provided six things the Lord expressly hates.

We are saved because Jesus took that wrath upon himself, cleansing us with his blood, speaking for us to God so that he may pass over the judgement for which we are all deserving.

We protest sins we don’t like, but we don’t reproach ourselves of the sins we commit because we think them “less offensive” to God.

When the divorce was fresh, and later, when the bio-dad died, I truly struggled with the idea that I might see him one day in Heaven. We picture Heaven as this blissful place where we see all the people we like, and none of the people we hate.  But God isn’t that small. We humans judge and classify things that are small in comparison to the universe as a whole.  We elevate ourselves higher, when the fact is, on any scale, we’re nothing.

So I’ve known my whole life that I should forgive. I’ve even said I forgive. Gotten over, is the more accurate term.  Think about it. Were you ever close to someone. Did someone that close to you ever do something to you that you just couldn’t get over?  It may be the case.  God, however, can get over anything. I say again, anything.  Does that mean the bio-dad is in Heaven? I don’t know.  I’ll let you know when I see you there, if you are saved.

The fact is, Heaven will be filled with the saved. I know for a fact there are people I love who don’t have a ticket. It doesn’t make me not love them, but the ticket into Heaven was bought by the blood of Jesus, and only those who acknowledge that and accept him into their hearts will get one. That means that when I get there, I might see bio-dad. He certainly proclaimed his salvation.  Many have, but that’s not necessarily the truth.

Does that mean I’ll rage out or I’ll hit him. No, because when Jesus returns, all of our sin, including the hate and resentment I feel, will leave me. We’ll all be like Jesus.

Some non-believers use this as justification to remain apart from God. They say, “I could never believe in a God who could forgive a killer.”

There it is again, a mortal elevating one sin above another. A man who lies is every bit as offensive to God as one who kills. I actually wrote a short-story on that years ago. I knew even then that sin is sin, and it’s wrong. It is equally offensive to God regardless of its classification.

I argue it is better to have a God who can forgive anyone of any sin. I feel this way because I’ve done some seriously wrong stuff in my life. I’ve stolen. I’ve fornicated. No, I’ve never killed.

I feared my bio-dad’s crime so much that I realized later in life that I avoided relationships.  I sought out pornography and strip clubs because I was terrified that one day whatever disease or insanity that struck bio-dad, and let’s not forget his bio-dad, the rapist, would visit me.  I kept thinking, “Well, you know, the bio-dad had several daughters, so maybe some strange thing happened in his brain to make him this way.”

For the record, even if that is/was the case, we still choose to sin. Our lusts, no matter how dark, are symbols of our humanity. Our faith is demonstrated in how we resist temptation.  For a long time, I resisted it by being shy. I resisted it by hiding from the possibility.

I think I’m a good uncle. In my arrogance, I happen to feel pretty strongly that I represent all the best things an uncle should be. But what made me fight to be such a great uncle wasn’t just my love for my nieces and nephews.  They were what I felt I was allowed to have in my life. I honestly felt I didn’t deserve love or children because my biological track record had disqualified me. I “could handle” nieces and nephews. I “could handle” being in the “friend zone.”

I have never once felt the desire to molest a child. I’ve never looked at a kid and been tempted. In fact, to this day I’m careful. I hug. I never kiss on the lips.  I fought for decades to avoid a temptation I’ve never felt, and what it cost me was time I can’t get back.

It took me a while to realize most of the children I know today have no memory of the bio-dad.  They’ve no clue at all who he was or what he did. All they know is their Uncle Matt.  I have a young cousin who get’s mad at me from time to time.  You see, I fly her around like  an airplane, and this airplane is very disappointing when it lacks the energy to keep her flying around endlessly.

My nephew gets mad I won’t tickle fight 24/7.

My other niece loves drawing with her uncle.

Saleah liked listening to me play guitar and sing. She loved watching TV with me. Now she’s off to college.

For decades, I struggled with avoiding a man I could never be. All it did was keep me from being the man I can be.

I have an opportunity now. I have this woman I mean to marry one day (soon), and she has three boys of her own. I see a lot of my concerns in them, and I intend to make sure they don’t live their whole lives trying to not be someone.

Our vow to not have sex until marriage (which is currently the only line remaining to cross), is important to me for that reason. I want to endure the temptation of having sex with her to show my faith to God’s will and my trust in him. It shows control of myself.

Whoever we are, God forgives. Whoever we are, Jesus saves. We show our faith and increase our bounty in Heaven by bearing fruit (helping to save others) and resisting temptation (whatever it may be).  Please know that you can never simply push on sinning thinking, “God will forgive me.” Sanctification is the reduction of sin in our lives so that we may be more Holy each day. This means I need to be less of a prideful jerk, and whatever your sin is, no matter how “small” or “large” you think it is, you need to repent and stop.

If we do, no matter who we are, we’ll be forgiven, and we’ll all see each other when Christ returns. We may even see people we hated in this life. If that happens, we’ll be incapable of hate, so we won’t hate them in the next.

For those of you who feel this probability is why one shouldn’t turn to God, I ask you to consider that you may see some people you don’t like, but is there really anyone you like less than Satan? Would you really risk hanging with him for the rest of eternity simply to avoid seeing anyone else? I wouldn’t. He’s the source of evil. He’s who introduced us to sin in the first place.

 

This incredibly long section is still only a part of the larger, but to help you understand where I come from and how hard it is for our family to unite, I had to explain how  we got to this point.

If you have other questions regarding my faith or thoughts or actions at this point, feel free to ask, and I’ll add them to the blog.  I try to ensure these passages are self reflective. My chaplain told me to take this opportunity to look at myself, but at the moment, those were the only real thoughts going through my mind. Questions might help me remember other thoughts or parts of The Bible I’d overlooked while typing this post.

Thanks for reading

Matt

Testimony: My Trial of Faith as My Mom Struggled With Cancer Part 16

See Part 1 here.

See Part 2 here.

See Part 3 here.

See Part 4 here.

See Part 5 here.

See Part 6 here.

See Part 7 here.

See Part 8 here.

See Part 9 here.

See Part 10 here.

See Part 11 here.

See Part 12 here.

See Part 13 here.

See Part 14 here.

See Part 15 here.

See Part 16 here.

The Visit

I got on a plane at around 7 p.m.  I landed in Phoenix at about 9 p.m., but with time difference, that means I was in the air for about five hours. When I landed, I linked up with my sister and her children. We jumped straight in the car and took the three-hour drive into Yuma.

By the time we got to another relative’s house, it was one in the morning, and I was exhausted. I went straight into a room, said my prayers, read my Bible and passed out.

We drove to my parents house the next day.  Mom answered the door. I tend to seem unsympathetic.  I might actually be unsympathetic. I’ve always confessed I’ve never been the most sympathetic person. I am, however, empathetic, not like one of the characters in one of my books, but still fairly able to understand the emotional temperature of the room.

I say all of this because my arrival wasn’t some made-for-tv sort of moment where we hugged and cried. That’s just not how our family works. I hugged her. It was startling to see how much weight she’d lost. To be clear, she didn’t look frail, except she’d lost a lot of muscle weight in her legs, which causes her to have trouble standing after sitting down.

She still looked like mom. I honestly had this mental picture of her having been shaved bald.  That wasn’t the case. The sides of her head had clearly been shaved, but it had grown back in the time since her surgery. Honestly, she looked much better than the mental picture I had in my mind.

We all sat down.  My first concern was talking to my mom. I asked her how she was. I asked her about the new procedure she was about to start. Then, I asked her if she was ready for it.

“Yeah.”

Talking to my mom is a bit tricky.  What I knew right away was that my mom is still in there. She’s still mom.  She’s restless and relentless. She wants a clean house. She wants to talk to and play with her grandkids. I think her lack of ability to communicate, and the physical toll this illness has taken, caused her to feel like she’s a burden.  The woman who was obviously the back-bone to my entire family wasn’t happy needing help.

While mom is still mom, it seems like someone took her entire lexicon and scrambled it. She knows what she means, but she’s using words that don’t match her intended meaning.  She’ll use one familial term when she means the other.  She’ll use one adjective and mean something else. Then she has a few words that sort of sound like placeholders for a lot of other words. “Flaming (or flame)” is the one I remember most. She might be talking about her carpets or a bedroom or even the walls.  This means that talking to her requires a lot of patience and a great deal of translation. However, she’s very good at answering questions, so I quickly realized asking her yes/no questions was a good approach.

That day was a lot of conversation, but it was also incredibly mundane. Were it not for my mom’s struggle with word choice, it would have been like any other visit. She sat there while my dad and I watched the game. My nephew played around the house while my niece reclined on a chair, working on her phone.

In the last segment, I talked about my mantra. Listen, and be supportive. So once Mom said she was ready to take on this new challenge, I looked at my dad, sister, and mom, and said, “So we’re all on the same page. We’re going to do this treatment and see how it goes.”

Seeing my mom walk around and talk and play with her grandchildren really boosted my mood. I think it helped my sister too. I have it easy. I saw mom up and about, complaining that her house wasn’t clean “enough.” I’ve never had to take her to a hospital. I’ve never had to see her lie in a bed, unable to move a limb or even most of her body. For those in my family who had to sit through that, I can’t even imagine the worry that would bring.

Once we started talking about how we got to this point, the reason the problem existed served to become the source of friction in the family. There are actually other sources of friction, but the one causing the most pressure was the manner in which one describes what’s happening.

The surgeon said the tumor had grown and that it was inoperable. This is the individual my sister trusts.  Why not? He’s the doctor who performed that first surgery on my mother.

The oncologist said that the MRI was inconclusive. The swelling and fluid in my mother’s brain was simply too bad for us to really know what was going on. This is the individual my father would quote.

Early on in this testimony, I mentioned my mom qualified for a new, experimental treatment. I’m not speaking on the overall effectiveness of this treatment, but it didn’t work for my mother. She consistently needed to be checked in to the hospital for various side effects. The worst issue wasn’t caused by that as I understand it.  The biggest issue always happened when they tried to ween my mom off the steroids. Please do not take this as a statement of my opinion of the experimental treatment. I don’t have nearly enough data.  All I know is what happened this time with my mom.

As true as that statement is, my sister worried that this approach might be just another excuse to try another experimental treatment. If anyone suspected that, I can only imagine how much distrust and anger that would generate.  I don’t know. I literally have no idea. I’ve never met the oncologist, but while listening, I realized that was my sister’s opinion. I don’t have time to investigate the motives of this oncologist, so again, please don’t take this as a statement of truth.  The only verified truth of what you’re reading here is what my sister felt.

So when facing a new round of treatment, how natural would it be to feel that it might just be a new thing to try? If one believes a doctor is just looking to push the boundaries of science, who would volunteer their mother to be the lead subject?

My dad offered the most logical source of relief. This treatment, avastin infusion, is a normal, FDA-approved treatment. It’s not experimental.  In fact, regardless of possible motives or which of the two sources of information was correct, this treatment is the solution.

Avastin (more scientifically called Bevacizumab), is indeed used as treatment of gioblastoma. It is used specifically for brain tumors that were resistant to previous treatments.

The link I gave you, a link to the NPS Medicinewise website, gives the eye-crossing science of it, but here’s what I know I know.

Avastin essentially cuts off the blood (and therefore the food) supply to tumors. This should stop, or at least slow, the tumor’s growth. It also reduces swelling, which is what the steroids were for. The problem with steroids is that using that much for that long on my mother would eventually just contribute to the problem. So this treatment should work against the tumor while reducing the swelling that’s causing problems.

The plan is to administer a few (three) treatments and then take another MRI to see how things are going.

Knowing this was a normal, FDA-approved course of action put my sister a bit more at ease. I sat there, listening to the discussion. Frankly, I got pretty upset at the team caring for my mom. Being in the military taught me something about communication: When you can, go straight to the source. My frustration was that two people even spoke to my family. I’d be fine with the whole team being in the room to answer specific questions, but man would my family be a lot less stressed if one guy gave us one situation and then provided the list of options to which my father referred when I called him the day before. I’m not saying they’re horrible people or anything.  This conflict had way more to do with the team’s communication skills than their medical skill.

Frustration or no frustration, it provided a very clear line in which my family could stand on opposite sides.

The first task was making sure everyone was supportive of the current course of action. We got there pretty quickly.  I’m still not sure how well I did anything else.

It’s difficult because my family hans’t been united for a very long time. My biological father molested one of my sisters. That divorce did a lot of damage. It damaged our faith:

When my mom was about to move us out, the church we attended at the time saw fit to visit (en mass). They told her, and I still remember the quote.

“You need to get over it and keep your marriage together.”

They argued the sanctity of marriage to my mother, who was trying to get our family (and the rest of her daughters, three of which still lived at home) away from this person who committed this awful act.

I feel compelled to explain something. Matthew 5:32 makes one thing perfectly clear, “But I tell you that anyone who divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, makes her the victim of adultery, and anyone who marries a divorced woman commits adultery.”  That word “except” starts the most important prepositional phrase ever in terms of divorce and Christianity. No, a person is not obligated to get a divorce, but my mother was in every Biblical right to divorce my bio-dad.

Apparently that church forgot to read that particular verse in the Bible. As I’ve read and studied the Bible, I’ve come to see that church was (I have no idea what it’s doing these days) sadly misguided in their actions and woefully inaccurate in its doctrine. My greatest obstruction in my walk with Jesus is without a doubt false teachers. I encountered more, but this particular event was what drove the wedge between my family and the Church (if not God Himself).

My bio-dad’s abuse fractured our family: The chain of events that started on that day only got worse and worse, particularly for my sister.  This sister is not the one with whom our mother stayed. I have a lot of sisters.  I commonly call this sister my oldest, but that’s only accurate in terms of siblings I spent a large portion of my life with. Each time something happened, more wedges were driven. We were separated from people we love. The desire for acceptance and attention became critical. Our motivation was validation through gifts and words of affection.

Mom fought to keep us together. Mom fought to make sure we got along. I don’t know if my siblings share this opinion, but I feel that what happened was we all chose to compete for her affection rather than love. It’s shown in various ways. The most common would be to raise ourselves up by speaking ill about the others. I am easily as guilty of this as anyone else in my family.  Rather than being good children and good siblings, we competed to be the best child.

How I wish we’d studied the Lord’s Supper at some point.  How could we though? We’d already been poisoned against God’s words by a list of false teachers.

During the Lord’s Supper, the apostles began a competition to determine who among them was the best. Jesus responded to this debate by washing the feet of each of his apostles. When every one of Jesus’s most trusted disciples were fighting over being the greatest, Jesus showed them the way by doing the most demeaning, humiliating service that could be done in this time. See Luke 22, Matthew 26, Mark 14, and John 20.

Here we are, nearly 30 years later. When my family got that news, words were said. Feelings were hurt. Yes, I know that’s passive voice.  To make the phrase active, let’s say, accurately, that relatives did things and/or said things to each other that hurt. I don’t need to (or want to) list the accusations or perceived offenses.  What I want is for you readers to try and imagine how a family hardened by nearly 30 years of stress  would react when the  central foundation of that family is the person we’re fighting over.

My efforts are to change the wording of this. Rather than fighting over, I hope to get to a place where we’re fighting with her.

For those families split by atrocity, whatever it may be, I ask you to be sure that your focus is on the family as a unit. It was hard for my mom. I didn’t make it easy. I was a prideful, hateful little bastard. I wasn’t exactly an angel before the divorce, and when it happened I, who bear a tremendous physical resemblance to the bio-dad, felt powerless, and I sought power by lying and undermining everyone I could. Even when I realized how selfish and hateful that course of action was, I still sought to be the most loved so that I felt like I was the least like the man who I still recognize because the face in the mirror is hauntingly, agonizingly so much like the face of the man I still struggle to forgive.

Those are my wrongs. Those are my crimes, and in this tale I focus on what I am doing and what I can do to be better.

All of my siblings struggle with this history. I’ve found immense comfort in studying the Bible and applying what it has taught me. So once we all acknowledged that this course of action was the right one for mom, I did the only think I knew was right.

I asked what I could do to help, and I did it. Then I had to keep working with my sisters to at least act like the children we should be.

 

 

Questions and Revelations

You actually want to forgive that molester? 

That’s the real problem. You see, the fact is, I know I should. We should forgive others, so that we are forgiven (Matthew 6:14).  That verse doesn’t say, “unless he did something really bad.” In fact one of the biggest issues facing the world today is the idea that there are “lesser sins” and “greater sins.” The simple fact is, sin is detestable to God (Proverbs 6:16) That particular reference provided six things the Lord expressly hates.

We are saved because Jesus took that wrath upon himself, cleansing us with his blood, speaking for us to God so that he may pass over the judgement for which we are all deserving.

We protest sins we don’t like, but we don’t reproach ourselves of the sins we commit because we think them “less offensive” to God.

When the divorce was fresh, and later, when the bio-dad died, I truly struggled with the idea that I might see him one day in Heaven. We picture Heaven as this blissful place where we see all the people we like, and none of the people we hate.  But God isn’t that small. We humans judge and classify things that are small in comparison to the universe as a whole.  We elevate ourselves higher, when the fact is, on any scale, we’re nothing.

So I’ve known my whole life that I should forgive. I’ve even said I forgive. Gotten over, is the more accurate term.  Think about it. Were you ever close to someone. Did someone that close to you ever do something to you that you just couldn’t get over?  It may be the case.  God, however, can get over anything. I say again, anything.  Does that mean the bio-dad is in Heaven? I don’t know.  I’ll let you know when I see you there, if you are saved.

The fact is, Heaven will be filled with the saved. I know for a fact there are people I love who don’t have a ticket. It doesn’t make me not love them, but the ticket into Heaven was bought by the blood of Jesus, and only those who acknowledge that and accept him into their hearts will get one. That means that when I get there, I might see bio-dad. He certainly proclaimed his salvation.  Many have, but that’s not necessarily the truth.

Does that mean I’ll rage out or I’ll hit him. No, because when Jesus returns, all of our sin, including the hate and resentment I feel, will leave me. We’ll all be like Jesus.

Some non-believers use this as justification to remain apart from God. They say, “I could never believe in a God who could forgive a killer.”

There it is again, a mortal elevating one sin above another. A man who lies is every bit as offensive to God as one who kills. I actually wrote a short-story on that years ago. I knew even then that sin is sin, and it’s wrong. It is equally offensive to God regardless of its classification.

I argue it is better to have a God who can forgive anyone of any sin. I feel this way because I’ve done some seriously wrong stuff in my life. I’ve stolen. I’ve fornicated. No, I’ve never killed.

I feared my bio-dad’s crime so much that I realized later in life that I avoided relationships.  I sought out pornography and strip clubs because I was terrified that one day whatever disease or insanity that struck bio-dad, and let’s not forget his bio-dad, the rapist, would visit me.  I kept thinking, “Well, you know, the bio-dad had several daughters, so maybe some strange thing happened in his brain to make him this way.”

For the record, even if that is/was the case, we still choose to sin. Our lusts, no matter how dark, are symbols of our humanity. Our faith is demonstrated in how we resist temptation.  For a long time, I resisted it by being shy. I resisted it by hiding from the possibility.

I think I’m a good uncle. In my arrogance, I happen to feel pretty strongly that I represent all the best things an uncle should be. But what made me fight to be such a great uncle wasn’t just my love for my nieces and nephews.  They were what I felt I was allowed to have in my life. I honestly felt I didn’t deserve love or children because my biological track record had disqualified me. I “could handle” nieces and nephews. I “could handle” being in the “friend zone.”

I have never once felt the desire to molest a child. I’ve never looked at a kid and been tempted. In fact, to this day I’m careful. I hug. I never kiss on the lips.  I fought for decades to avoid a temptation I’ve never felt, and what it cost me was time I can’t get back.

It took me a while to realize most of the children I know today have no memory of the bio-dad.  They’ve no clue at all who he was or what he did. All they know is their Uncle Matt.  I have a young cousin who get’s mad at me from time to time.  You see, I fly her around like  an airplane, and this airplane is very disappointing when it lacks the energy to keep her flying around endlessly.

My nephew gets mad I won’t tickle fight 24/7.

My other niece loves drawing with her uncle.

Saleah liked listening to me play guitar and sing. She loved watching TV with me. Now she’s off to college.

For decades, I struggled with avoiding a man I could never be. All it did was keep me from being the man I can be.

I have an opportunity now. I have this woman I mean to marry one day (soon), and she has three boys of her own. I see a lot of my concerns in them, and I intend to make sure they don’t live their whole lives trying to not be someone.

Our vow to not have sex until marriage (which is currently the only line remaining to cross), is important to me for that reason. I want to endure the temptation of having sex with her to show my faith to God’s will and my trust in him. It shows control of myself.

Whoever we are, God forgives. Whoever we are, Jesus saves. We show our faith and increase our bounty in Heaven by bearing fruit (helping to save others) and resisting temptation (whatever it may be).  Please know that you can never simply push on sinning thinking, “God will forgive me.” Sanctification is the reduction of sin in our lives so that we may be more Holy each day. This means I need to be less of a prideful jerk, and whatever your sin is, no matter how “small” or “large” you think it is, you need to repent and stop.

If we do, no matter who we are, we’ll be forgiven, and we’ll all see each other when Christ returns. We may even see people we hated in this life. If that happens, we’ll be incapable of hate, so we won’t hate them in the next.

For those of you who feel this probability is why one shouldn’t turn to God, I ask you to consider that you may see some people you don’t like, but is there really anyone you like less than Satan? Would you really risk hanging with him for the rest of eternity simply to avoid seeing anyone else? I wouldn’t. He’s the source of evil. He’s who introduced us to sin in the first place.

 

This incredibly long section is still only a part of the larger, but to help you understand where I come from and how hard it is for our family to unite, I had to explain how  we got to this point.

If you have other questions regarding my faith or thoughts or actions at this point, feel free to ask, and I’ll add them to the blog.  I try to ensure these passages are self reflective. My chaplain told me to take this opportunity to look at myself, but at the moment, those were the only real thoughts going through my mind. Questions might help me remember other thoughts or parts of The Bible I’d overlooked while typing this post.

Thanks for reading

Matt

A New 4-Star Review for An Unusual Occupation!

Greetings all,

[image error]I love it when I have the chance to share a review with you.  This new review for An Unusual Occupation, book one of The Journals of Bob Drifter, was a kind, four-star review. It gave me some good feedback and gave me some great positive encouragement.  I love quick, pros-and-cons reviews like this.

I want to make sure I take the time to thank the reviewer. Reviews are so critical in this line of work and any time someone gives me a rating, review, or both, it gets me a bit more visibility, and it also helps me improve.  Thank you!

Thanks for reading,

V/R

Matt

Story Review: Clover Fields Forever from Posh Bytes by C. Rose

[image error]Spoiler Free Summary:  In Clover Fields Forever by C. Rose, Clover is looking for money to pay the rent.  The problem is she’s a shopaholic narcissist who’s out of money.  Lucky for her, Honey, (previously seen briefly in Eye of the Beholder) has some.  Unlucky for her, Honey’s had it with her freeloading sister. Clover’s boss is fed up. Her landlord is fed up.  She has to find a way to make it on her own.

Character:  This story was probably my least favorite in the anthology. Clover’s arc wasn’t bad. In fact, it was expertly written.  Where Supernova had a glimpse of hope and a tragic resolution, this story is tragic because of Clover and her actions. It’s not my least favorite because it’s poorly written; it’s my least favorite because it’s an expertly written story of a character who tragically refuses to learn.  Some may say that makes it bad, but that’s more a matter of opinion. A lot of readers these days want to see the character evolve, and so they judge a story by whether or not the characters do.  Some times people don’t change, and that’s unfortunate.  This is a story I’d like to discuss with other authors after reading to evaluate the options and what could have been done.  For me, I simply hated (and I’m supposed to) Clover.

Exposition: Strangely, where her exposition is normally a consistent knock on Rose, in this case, the exposition supported the theme.  Readers have to see if they buy off on the theme. Those who do will appreciate this story. Those who don’t will not like it.

Worldbuilding: It’s been a while since I’ve reviewed one of these stories (I review stories in the same order I read them).  With that in mind, I’d like to mention again how much I enjoy several stories in one setting (or planet). Add to that some clever character appearances, and I’m impressed. Honey’s role is larger here, but the reader can expect things from her because of her role in Beholder.

[image error]Dialogue: This might have been a bit forced at times, but it was never too bad.  Dialogue and character are linked, and when one doesn’t like the character, he tends to be annoyed by the dialogue as well.  There were some spots where the dialogue felt like exposition, but it never lingered or dragged the story down.

Description:  This was solid. Rose gave detail on the things I needed to see clearly, but she didn’t beat me to death with specifics that my mind could just as easily fill in. The last few stories got stronger in this area.

Overall:  Lest favorite story of the anthology or not, this is still one of the best books I’ve read this year. While my affection for this story was low, my appreciation for the quality of the writing remains as high as ever. This is a good anthology for fans of speculative fiction, especially those who spend time thinking about the vanity in today’s world.

Thanks for reading

Matt

Story Review: The Death Mask from Posh Bytes by C. Rose

[image error]Spoiler Free Summary:  In Clover Fields Forever by C. Rose, Clover is looking for money to pay the rent.  The problem is she’s a shopaholic narcissist who’s out of money.  Lucky for her, Honey, (previously seen briefly in Eye of the Beholder) has some.  Unlucky for her, Honey’s had it with her freeloading sister. Clover’s boss is fed up. Her landlord is fed up.  She has to find a way to make it on her own.

Character:  This story was probably my least favorite in the anthology. Clover’s arc wasn’t bad. In fact, it was expertly written.  Where Supernova had a glimpse of hope and a tragic resolution, this story is tragic because of Clover and her actions. It’s not my least favorite because it’s poorly written; it’s my least favorite because it’s an expertly written story of a character who tragically refuses to learn.  Some may say that makes it bad, but that’s more a matter of opinion. A lot of readers these days want to see the character evolve, and so they judge a story by whether or not the characters do.  Some times people don’t change, and that’s unfortunate.  This is a story I’d like to discuss with other authors after reading to evaluate the options and what could have been done.  For me, I simply hated (and I’m supposed to) Clover.

Exposition: Strangely, where her exposition is normally a consistent knock on Rose, in this case, the exposition supported the theme.  Readers have to see if they buy off on the theme. Those who do will appreciate this story. Those who don’t will not like it.

Worldbuilding: It’s been a while since I’ve reviewed one of these stories (I review stories in the same order I read them).  With that in mind, I’d like to mention again how much I enjoy several stories in one setting (or planet). Add to that some clever character appearances, and I’m impressed. Honey’s role is larger here, but the reader can expect things from her because of her role in Beholder.

[image error]Dialogue: This might have been a bit forced at times, but it was never too bad.  Dialogue and character are linked, and when one doesn’t like the character, he tends to be annoyed by the dialogue as well.  There were some spots where the dialogue felt like exposition, but it never lingered or dragged the story down.

Description:  This was solid. Rose gave detail on the things I needed to see clearly, but she didn’t beat me to death with specifics that my mind could just as easily fill in. The last few stories got stronger in this area.

Overall:  Lest favorite story of the anthology or not, this is still one of the best books I’ve read this year. While my affection for this story was low, my appreciation for the quality of the writing remains as high as ever. This is a good anthology for fans of speculative fiction, especially those who spend time thinking about the vanity in today’s world.

Thanks for reading

Matt

Testimony: My Trial of Faith as My Mom Struggled With Cancer Part 16

See Part 1 here.

See Part 2 here.

See Part 3 here.

See Part 4 here.

See Part 5 here.

See Part 6 here.

See Part 7 here.

See Part 8 here.

See Part 9 here.

See Part 10 here.

See Part 11 here.

See Part 12 here.

See Part 13 here.

See Part 14 here.

See Part 15 here.

Praise  and Doubt

I was on a high the day after Mom was taken to the hospital.  My work actually has a weekly lunchtime Bible study group. I had the chance to tell my coworkers things weren’t quite that bad. We studied the book of Romans. I’d also been looking for more fellowship in my life.  A coworker of mine goes to a different church, but his men’s group meets on a day that fits my schedule, so I rushed home from work to change and head to that.

It was a blast. I’m told that’s not a normal men’s group, but man was it fun.  It was a praise session with music, testimony, and a guest speaker. I sang my heart  out and listened about how one needs to be open to letting God work through them.  It was so much fun and so needed.

What I didn’t know is that my sister and brother in law had been trying to call me.  My phone never rang. I never got any messages. I went to bed, and I went to work the next morning still feeling like things were great. I knew the MRI was scheduled and should have been done, but I didn’t get any news. I didn’t want to push, so I waited.

At about the middle of my morning the next day, I saw a text from my sister.

“Did I do something wrong?”

I had no idea what she was talking about.  “No, why on Earth would you wonder that?”

Not having any clue what was going on, I waited for an explanation, but received nothing.  When I sat down to lunch, I knew I had a  bit more time, so I sent another text.

“Still not sure why you think I would think you did something wrong.”

“I tried calling,” she replied. “You didn’t answer. I tried texting. No reply. At least not up until now. Matt, I’m not in a good place right now. I’m getting some rest, and then I gotta spend time with my kids. It has just been an emotional roller coaster, and I’m full of saying all the wrong things or the right things but at the wrong time. So I’m again going to take a nape, wake up, spend time with kids, and hope for a better day than it has be the last couple.”

I was baffled.  I explained to her that I never got a call from either her or her husband. I didn’t have a missed call notification or anything.  This is still a mystery, but I’ll hand my phone to whoever wants to see it.

Knowing things were clearly not going well, I called.

This is where things get complicated. My sister said that the MRI didn’t go well. The surgeon had told the family that the tumor had grown. It was too large on which to operate.  They were talking about other options, and my sister wasn’t sure if another round of anything was what Mom would want.  You can imagine how others might feel at a time like that.

I explained that we’re a family, and what we need to do most is focus on thinking about what Mom needs. She wasn’t sure. She was worried what to do. She was worried how the rest of the family was reacting.

During the conversation, I kept my composure. I wanted to be supportive and listen.  This has become my new focus at any point in dealing with my family.  Listen, and be supportive.

The second I hung up, the tears came.  I fell to my knees crying, but I knew what the right thing to do was.

When we suffer, we praise God.

I folded my hands in prayer and quoted Job 1:21, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.”

I felt Job was a very appropriate piece of scripture to turn to. But I still couldn’t do much more than cry, so I went to another verse, Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”

I didn’t quote either verbatim.  With Jeremiah, I wasn’t even thinking of the right book. I thought I was quoting Isaiah until I looked it up again.  I was stabbing the Sword of the Spirit into my doubt and fear.

None of that changed the fact that I felt it was time to go home.

Let me be clear on something. I’ve told my family this, and I feel the same in my heart. The only member of the family that everyone loves is my mother.   She’s the only one I guarantee every single member loves without question or reservation.

Everyone involved is doing the best they can based on the information they have and how they perceive it.  The fact is, I know that’s true. But what I knew in that moment was my Mom wasn’t in great shape. My sister was worried, and with good reason.  The guy who performed the first surgery on my mother said things looked bad. I think the reason I’m able to listen and be supportive is because that’s all I have to worry about. I don’t have any power in this situation, so all I can do is collect information and offer an ear when it’s needed.

The very co-worker and friend with whom I went to the men’s group, Keith, was there when I got the call and fell to tears. He waited for me to finish, and then offered me a prayer as well. I can’t express what that means to me.  I was ready to do whatever was needed, but I wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was, so I  went to the command chaplain.

We talked for a while, and he said the best idea was to get over there if for no other reason than to learn first-hand what was going on.

It’s what I wanted to do anyway, so I was happy to hear that advice. The problem was I was in the middle of an iteration of class.  I went to talk to the chief in charge of our class.   He wasn’t sure why I hadn’t already left. I talked to each member of the team I work with and a few other coworkers.

Readers, I can’t express to you how supportive they were. They offered hugs and kind words. They offered to drive me to the airport. They put together a plan that would let me get back home and do whatever I could.

I drove home and bought the ticket. I didn’t want to be a distraction, but I also didn’t want to be a surprise. I asked Elise, a coworker of mine whom I consider a confidant and a sort of Christian adviser. She thinks a lot like I do, and since we talk a lot, I wanted her opinion.

She advised me to call.  The distraction my pending visit might be wasn’t that big a deal.  I agreed. My family need to know I was coming to support them.  I’m still not being completely truthful yet, so I have to explain the rest of the process.

I called Elise to see if I should call my brother-in-law (and best friend). I didn’t want him or my sister working to figure out how to pick me up around their schedule and whatever was going to happen with Mom. Since I thought I’d be staying there, I asked Elise about calling my brother.

I called him. He explained what he knew. I made sure he knew I was coming, but that I’d figure out how to get from the airport to his house.

I then asked him if I should tell everyone.  Again, I didn’t want my arrival to be a bother. He encouraged me to tell everyone else, so I sent a quick text.  Somewhere in there, I found out that Mom was about to be released and taken all the way to Yuma.

I called my sister to figure out when she was driving to Yuma, and we worked out the trip down, but now there was the issue on where to stay.  Do we stay at the in-laws (my best friend’s family) or with Dad.  I knew I’d be there eventually, but I wouldn’t get to Yuma until 1 a.m., and that’s just a stupid time to get anywhere, especially when there’s a lot of emotional stuff going on.

I called my Dad next. I let him know I was coming. We talked a bit more, and I could already see the friction in the situation. My sister’s concerns that Mom might not want another round of treatment were opposite my Dad’s belief that we weren’t there yet, and that this next round of treatment was the right plan.

Once again, there is not right or wrong in this scenario. The bigger problem is when people start picking sides. I’ve told my father and sister this, but I had this serious actual thought in my head where he and my sister (Mom’s powers of attorney) start this giant legal battle over this decision.  Both have since assured me that’s not the case, and I wasn’t exactly in my most rational state, but I was still horrified that a family that wasn’t that united to begin with was about to shatter to a point that couldn’t be healed.

The fact that they’ve assured me we won’t end up in some nightmarish legal battle doesn’t eliminate the general fear I had that our family’s already fragile state was near a breaking point. My plan: Stick to the plan! Listen! Be supportive!

Jay, Elise’s husband and a friend of mine in his own right, took me to the airport.  We talked bout the right thing to do.  Rather, we talked about what he knew to do. Pray, and read the scripture.  I didn’t have a clue how to support anyone, especially when there were still (in my mind) two very distinct sides.  My sister didn’t want to casually let Mom go any more than my dad wanted to put his wife through any necessary pain.  I knew that then, and I know that now.

So I got to the airport and thought to ask my chaplain to send some verses my way to ponder what’s going on.

He sent:

Romans 8:30-39, 2 Corinthians 12:9, Philippians 4:11-19, Job 1 and 2, 2 Corinthians 4, Ecclesiastes 3:1-2, Psalm 33:20 (which I’d already read and loved), and Matthew 11:28-29.

I immediately started highlighting them.  I read each over and over again. I have other verses in my Bible highlighted, and I added them to the routine.  Somehow, James 1:5-6 fell in front of me.

“If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.”

It continues in verse 7-8, “That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do.”

I realized something while reading that. I was feeling doubt when I shouldn’t. I’d prayed to God to take care of my Mom, and he will.  The issue I felt was my responsibility was to to take care of my family.  They needed support. I felt in that moment that God was calling me to go home, not to worry about my mom, but instead to keep my family united.

It was still an incredibly intimidating task.

 

 

Questions and Revelations

What are the other verses?

I hope you ask yourself this. If you did, I’m glad. Let me share all of those verses with you because they helped me, and I hope they’re of help to you when you face something like this.

Job 1 and 2 are chapters. They’re powerful. I took the most comfort from the very verse I quoted (badly) when I called my sister.  I’m not comfortable posting entire chapters of the Bible here, but I’d recommend the book of Job to any who feels they’ve suffered. Often when I feel I’m suffering, I think of Job and Christ. My entire family and livelihood haven’t been taken, and I’m certainly not being crucified. However bad my situation is, it’s not that bad.

Psalm 33:20-22: “We wait in hope for the Lord; he is our help and our shield. In him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name. May your unfailing love be with us, Lord, even as we put our hope in you.”

If that verse looks familiar, it’s because I read it a few days prior and mentioned it in the previous segment of this testimony. I think when a certain verse keeps popping up, the person encountering it should pay particular attention. It reminds me to trust in God. I don’t know his plan. I don’t know how things will go, but I know God will provide. I’ve put my hope in Him.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-2: Most of you probably are already familiar with the words even if you don’t know their real origin. “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: A time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot.”

I might not get what I want out of this situation, but all things happen for my good, and they happen when they’re supposed to happen. This is what I took from that verse.

Matthew 11:28-29: “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and  humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”

Romans 8:30-39: “And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified. What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all–how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died–more than that, who was raised to life–is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: ‘For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.’ No, in all the things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

While comforting in that time because it reminds me that God and Jesus love us no matter what, that verse is also affirming for my salvation, a thing which some Christians unfortunately believe can be lost.  If you are saved (and you should take a hard look at that), you’re saved. Nothing will take that salvation from you.

2 Corinthians 4 is another entire chapter.

2 Corinthians 12:9:  “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”

And THAT verse is what I turn to when I set myself to a task (like that with my family) I don’t feel I’m suited for.  God equips us for our tasks in life. He provides what we need to do his will. His grace is all we need.

Why is keeping your family together such a daunting task in your mind?

That will be the subject of my next testimony. Short version, we haven’t been united in a very long time.

If you have other questions regarding my faith or thoughts or actions at this point, feel free to ask, and I’ll add them to the blog.  I try to ensure these passages are self reflective. My chaplain told me to take this opportunity to look at myself, but at the moment, those were the only real thoughts going through my mind. Questions might help me remember other thoughts or parts of The Bible I’d overlooked while typing this post.

Thanks for reading

Matt

I’m Making Preparations to Develop the Audio Version of Caught!

[image error]Greetings all,

In some ways, this post is a tad lazy. If I’m being honest, I’m still recovering from my trip across the country.  Also, other social media issues have put me in a frame of mind where I feel I have to be careful, so this announcement serves that purpose.  It let’s me talk about some good news. It also helps me get word out and build momentum.

That said, I’m happy to announce that I’ve begin listening to auditions for narrators to produce the audio version of Caught.

If you’re a narrator (ACX or otherwise) and you’re interested in a 50/50 royalty share contract, please feel free to send me an audition.

This project has taken longer to get set up and done than I’d like, but it feels good to get things rolling.

I opened auditions a while back (June 4), but right about there is when life got a bit overwhelming. So I’ll probably keep auditions open for another two weeks (June 29), so I can better evaluate them and select the right person for the job.

I’m happy to get that done! I’m nearly done with the Beta Draft of Stealing Freedom, and Sara sent me the final edits on Repressed (with indications that it’s been well developed). That means a lot of my projected release dates are still right on schedule.

Keep stopping by for updates on this project and others.  Until then, have a happy weekend!

Thanks for reading,

Matt