Jack LaFountain's Blog, page 6

Know Jack #458 Hidden Blessings

 “What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives everything its value.”  Thomas Paine

 

I find counting my blessings is a spiritually uplifting practice. Provided, of course, that I recognize them. Initially, not all blessings appear to be beneficial. Many come disguised as opposition, criticism, bad reviews, or personal injury. The whole “whatever doesn’t kill me” thing is only true if we understand two truths.

 

The first is to understand why it didn’t kill us. Like the candy, not all life savers are the same. Perhaps it was never meant to kill me, but to deliver a lesson. Painful lessons are often the easiest to learn and the best remembered ones.

 

Then again, maybe it was meant to destroy me, but I had help. Whether God delivered me from it, or walked me through it, divine intervention is never beyond the realm of possibility. Then again, my foe may simply have underestimated my possessed knowledge as well as my ability to adapt, improvise, and overcome without melting down. Remember Job.

 

Whatever the case may be, if I search for the hidden blessing, I win. I come away wiser, more persistent, and more durable. Though I fail, (see painful lessons), knowing I survived makes me confident. Confident in God’s faithfulness to the task of shaping me and confident in my somewhat reluctant acceptance of His design. It also shores up my faith that God will accomplish His plans for me despite my failures.

 

The other truth is harder to take. I reap what I sow. No matter how good I think myself to be, I find myself falling short of not only my expectations for myself, but those of others, and God’s as well. I just haven’t reached perfection—yet. Those never chastised for their errors are blind, ignorant, and ungrateful.

 

Actions may speak louder than words, but thoughts scream. Though I succeed in turning the other cheek, if the great desire of my heart is to rip my foe’s head off and drink my coffee from his skull, I have failed. As a Christian, I have found there’s something essential to remember about failure. God will repeat the lesson until I succeed. I will always get a do over.

 

Treasure your blessings; they give life real value. Paine’s words were aimed at his fellow revolutionaries who, at the time, were failing badly. It would have been easy for them to give up. The price they paid still makes freedom ring for me.

Know Jack #457 Facing Ruin

“The end of learning is to repair the ruins of our first parents by regaining to know God aright…”  John Milton ~ On Education

 

Much is said these days about “unlearning” the outdated and false ideas passed down to us by our elders. If we can only break free of these ideas, we will be free to remake ourselves in a positive way, or at a higher frequency, and thereby more fully be one with the universe.

 

The problem with such thinking and “relearning” is that no one seems to have stopped to consider whether it is a good idea. It’s modern, it’s hip, it sounds like freedom—what could be/go wrong? Well, given that the space available severely limits sufficient response. Let us say it is the denial of what makes us human.

 

If to be human means that we are created beings and not the result of a series of improbable cosmic accidents, then to “unlearn” is to abandon the most critical knowledge available about how to set things right. Of course, the idea that things need to be set right only makes sense if we are created. Otherwise, existence is what it is. More specifically, we are what we are. There is no remedy for how we can be other than as we are.

 

To embrace the chimera of self-identity as ultimate truth. It is to look inward for reason and focus as if the answer lies within us. If Milton is to be believed, the approach of considering inward argument as supreme is exactly how our first parents came to ruin and what perpetuates that ruin.

 

To be self-existent or products of random universal vibrations has great appeal because it opens the door to a universe of our own making. The mind then, is a place. We can make it what we will. We may make a heaven of hell or a hell of heaven as we choose.

 

We need then look outside ourselves. Where shall we turn? Many of my friends and acquaintances talk about looking to the Universe as a solution. They claim the universe controls life. It rewards good thoughts/actions and punishes bad ones. It makes choices and initiates action based on those choices. But the moment you talk about an all-powerful invisible force that thinks, chooses, and rewards what it prefers, you are talking about a god. You may not call it the Christian God, but it is a god nonetheless.

 

Artificial Intelligence, so we are told, is the future. There’s a line from the movie, Jurassic Park in which Malcom charges that the genetic manipulators were so caught up in seeing if they could make dinosaurs that they never stopped to ask themselves if they should. We can do it, let’s see how far we can take it. That is the argument for AI in a nutshell.

 

AI is but another name for inward reasoning done for us. We are relieved of the need for possessed knowledge. Folks my age are well aware of the consequences of such surrender. We are reminded of it every time we shop and meet the clerk who can’t count change. Or in my case every time autocorrect meets written dialogue or pre-twentieth century syntax.

 

 

Lost Crusader #238 Sufficient

Grace and peace be multiplied unto you through the knowledge of God, and of Jesus our Lord, According as his divine power hath given unto us all things that pertain unto life and godliness, through the knowledge of him that hath called us to glory and virtue: 2Peter 1:2-3

 

In their wilderness wandering God quite literally gave His people their daily bread. Those who gathered much had no excess and those who gathered little had no lack. He knows what we need, and He has supplied it—past tense.

God’s knowledge of our need can rightfully be put down to omniscience. But it need not be as hard to understand as what it is like to be all-knowing. He knows our need, because he made us. Body, soul, and spirit all are in accord with God’s design. In that design plan, God provided all things that pertain to life and godliness or as the poet Milton said, “Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall”.

Feelings of want or lack are not a supply problem. They are a communication problem. Either we have not effectively communicated our need to God or we have failed to clearly hear what God wants from us. The problem lies with us. The answer to what God wants from us is simple. From the beginning God has wanted only one thing from Man. That has never changed and never will.

The answer that probably jumps to mind first is love. After all the first and great commandment is  Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. But this is not the entire story. God does not want us to say we love Him—He wants us to show we love Him.

I talk to writers all the time about the difference between showing and telling. Personally, I approach my writing as if all my readers are from Missouri. “Show, don’t tell” is the key to any hearer’s belief and faith. God wants love alright, but He wants it shown. He wants obedience.

As Samuel told Saul, “To obey is better than sacrifice”. The entire fall of Man was a failure to obey God’s one simple desire. Nothing has changed.

Granted, it can be more difficult for us to understand what constitutes obedience. We now have two commandments. They are broad sweeping commands. This presents a “good news, bad news” dilemma. The good news is that God is eager for us to know how to please Him. The bad news is that God is more eager to tell us than we are to hear it and do it.

Nevertheless, the ability to please God is within us. It’s there somewhere under all the clutter we’ve thrown on top of it, but it is there.

Maranatha

Lost Crusader #237 Man’s Best Friend?

And David's anger was greatly kindled against the man… And Nathan said to David, Thou art the man… 2 Samuel 12

 

God revealed to Nathan the prophet a great sin committed by a rich man against a poor man. Without mentioning any names, Nathan reported it to the king. David was incensed to hear of such behavior. He called down punishment upon the guilty. Then, the prophet lowered the boom. David was the rich man in the story.

 

It’s a good thing to have a sense of right and wrong. It’s even a good thing to allow a bit of righteous indignation to flare up in us. It’s the best thing of all to be able to see our own behavior in the light of that righteous fire. David confessed, asked forgiveness, and paid the consequences of his action.

 

Which brings me to my dog, Lloyd.

 

As I work from home, Lloyd and I spend a lot of time together. He can be a real pain. He wants out at the most inconvenient times. When I’m too slow to act, he whines, whimpers or barks. So, I get up to put him on his chain and reach for him to hook it to his collar. Suddenly he has to stretch and shake his head greatly complicating the whole procedure.

 

No sooner is he outside, he wants back in. Again, with the whining, whimpering, plus banging on the door. I open the door, and he charges in. Of course, by the time I reach him, he’s reached the end of his chain and is leaning against the hook.

 

Lloyd is needy. When he’s not wanting to go in or out, he wants food or water. He wants me to stop work and pet him or rub his belly and so on ad nauseum. Do I get frustrated with all that? You know it. But I do love the knucklehead.

 

I truly do have a point to make. As a writer I deal in “What if”. Well, what if my situation with Lloyd has a parallel. What if, I’m Lloyd and God is the Master attending to my wants and needs? All I can say is, I’m glad Jesus loves me.

Lost Crusader #236 Do You Hear What I Hear?

For all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this; Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. But if ye bite and devour one another, take heed that ye be not consumed one of another. Galatians 5:14-15

 

I used to get a great deal of information about diet and nutrition. I say used to because it was not enough for many authors/experts to tell me their way was the best way. It seemed every book I picked up, every podcast I watched, began with a rant about how wrong everybody else was. There is no need to tear down others if you have made a valid argument just state your case simply and clearly.

 

This rather destructive means of promoting one’s beliefs is not exclusive to food gurus. It is the standard for a great many so-called experts. And sadly, has found a happy home in the Church. A prime example is those who post on social media about how Jesus (and by extension they themselves) did this or that and other Christians don’t do it as well or don’t do it at all.

 

If you are an exact, living example of Christ, is it really necessary to point out your disagreements with others to establish the truth you are living? When Jesus found it necessary to expose the errors of His detractors, it came after He acted out the right way. Of course, it was also set against the backdrop of His life that was perfect in word, deed, and thought.

 

The world does not lack vocal extremists. It’s possible to find an outrageous viewpoint expressed by someone in any group. Watch the news about a tornado, flood, hailstorm, or any old tragedy. The person interviewed will reflect the on-air person’s opinion of what people living in that area are like. Vocal buffoons, and society snobs, are equally easy to find and make for good television.

 

I can find someone affiliated with any church, anywhere in the country, who will publicly make an erroneous, outlandish statement about another church and its members. Been there, heard that. I can also find someone from the maligned church who denies that’s what they believe.

 

What I’m getting at is this. Christians have enough detractors without hunting up more within our ranks and broadcasting the wild things they may say as indicative of entire bodies of believers. It’s a lot like gossip and just as true and helpful. Do you have the true path to heaven? Wonderful, by all means share it. Do so standing on its own merits.

Maranatha

Know Jack #456 What If

As a writer seeking inspiration my first stop is generally at Conjunction Junction to pick up an “if”. What if the dog is barking at the door because there’s a rougarou on the porch? Saying it ain’t so is like saying there’s no such thing as Santa. Well, as for me and Grandpa, we believe. After all, in every holiday movie the kind old man with the beard really is Santa. The chances are never zero. So, why not let my mind chase the answers to “what if” and be entertained?

I worked in the Emergency Room for years and the answer to “what now?”, has an endless number of “ifs” for an answer. Trust me in all those years, I never saw it all. That’s why I quit asking, until I became a writer. Now, it’s my bread and butter.

Asking “what if” is not the only source of inspiration for my writing. However, most of the other roads pass through it at some point. I once heard an old song by the Zombies titled, She’s Not There and a character materialized in my mind. The next thought was what if she’s not there because she’s a ghost that only my protagonist can see. Don’t look for her in my books. She’s not there because that one has not been published yet.

I probably shouldn’t admit it publicly but sometimes I just see things or hear characters’ voices pitching story ideas in my head. I know they’re not real. That doesn’t mean they aren’t good stories. But they are rarely complete stories, which sends me back to asking what if this or what if that needs to happen. If all this seems a bit chaotic, remember I trained for it.

Know Jack #455 I Have a Few Scars

"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."

Ernest Hemingway

 

Several years ago, when I was really getting into writing full-time, I crafted a masterpiece opening to a Western. The man in black appearing on the mountain and slowly entering the sleepy little town while being watched by its leading citizens. I showed how they all got to be there and why there was this town in the middle of nowhere Wyoming.

When I submitted the book to my editor the first thing she did was cut the first two chapters, the one’s I had written so well, out of the book and pointing to chapter three said, “Your story starts here.” She might as well have cut my heart out.

I asked what was wrong with those two chapters. The answer was—nothing. She said the writing was top notch, the scene produced a great mental picture, but readers weren’t going to wade through it to get to the story. “You can work all that stuff into the book once you have them hooked.” It broke my heart to have some of the best writing I’d ever done just tossed aside.

I still have those chapters on my storage drive, but they are not in the book. They are sleeping in their coffin waiting for me to come along and pull the stake from their heart. I’ve been considering doing just that by the light of a full moon sometime soon. That is if the man in black agrees to the third incarnation that I have in mind for him.

The really sad part about the whole thing is that she was right. The book is better without the scene. I was asked by a group of writers why I created a likeable character in chapter one only to kill him off at the end of the chapter. The answer seemed simple to me. A murder mystery must begin with a murder. If you must tell me something before you show me the body, tell me how it got from being a person to just a body. Then comes, as Paul Harvey used to say, the rest of the story. The backstory is best learned by the reader as they follow the police investigation.

Dump it on them before the action starts and, in all likelihood, they will not be around when the action starts. This is true for me as a horror film watcher. New films seem to begin with 15 minutes of a poorly written info dump. I rarely hear all of it because after 10 minutes, (when I’m feeling generous) I’m gone.

If the back story is that great, think prequel. Or better yet write that story first. And save yourself some bleeding.

Know Jack #454 Getting Up Again

 

And as he is, who unwills what he willed,

And by new thoughts doth his intention change

So that from his design he quite withdraws,

Such I became, upon that dark hillside,

Because, in thinking, I consumed the emprise,

Which was so very prompt in the beginning.

The Divine Comedy Canto II

 

My response to darkness of disposition is most often to embrace it. I know Elijah under the juniper tree. Been there, done that. I may hold the copyright to the T-shirt that goes with it. Life is not all complex shades of gray, nor is it only the white of positive thinkers’ dreams. Life is black as well and to deny the darkness, or refuse to face it, is to fail to live. I believe it’s what we do in the darkness of the black that truly defines us.

 

I was never any good at Literature. That may seem a strange confession for a writer. I was not particularly good at discerning the deep hidden meaning and motivation of the author that lay beneath the surface of the story. I don’t know if I ever have such feelings while writing. So, if I say Dante went through hell to find heaven, that’s very superficial.

 

In the black darkness of despair, who we allow to guide us is important. The best guides do not steer us away from pain, but through it. The dark wilderness thrust upon us by life will dampen our enthusiasm for facing life boldly. Finding ourselves lost in the dark, the courage to go flees from us.

The voice that says, “Go on” is the voice of God. The true course is not to escape or change course, but to see our quest through along our chosen path.

 

I do not particularly fear death, to die is gain. It is much harder to live, for that is Christ. To live is to pour out our own life for others without applause, without recognition, without respect, and without thanks. If that seems a dark path through the wilderness, it is. The adventure is worth seeing through to the end.

 

 

Thou hast my heart so with desire disposed

To the adventure, with these words of thine,

That to my first intent I have returned.

Know Jack #453 Milestones

The odometer in my car tells me that I have driven thousands of miles in the last six weeks or so. My tired body confirms it. When I’m not commenting on the driving skills of others, I occupy myself with the steady passing of the little green mile markers. I know mile post 156 on Interstate 40 in Arkansas is in the Little Rock metro area. Believe it or not that little tidbit has been useful on occasion.

 

Before little green signs, miles were marked by stones. The road of life has its own version of milestones. Some we get to see, some we’re too busy to see, some are not on our route and the two biggest, most traumatic ones, we don’t even remember. At least, not during our earthly life. The point is not everyone gets to see every marker. That can be both good and bad.

 

I am in Oklahoma today watching the roadside for one of those. We are celebrating my son’s 50th birthday. It was three days ago, but as we’re all older we tend toward easy and convenient when it comes to celebrating.

 

The numbers don’t lie but it’s still hard to believe the boy whose T ball team I coached is fifty years old. I know he’s not a boy. I’m nearly deaf, not blind. But fifty! I know this won’t happen with my daughter. She refuses to age beyond 29.

 

I’m happy to be passing this milestone, like I said, not everyone gets to. My father didn’t, nor did his father. Jay is a good man in whom I take a lot of pride. He’s a retired police captain with a fine family of his own. He’s a man who has given of himself to serve others honorably. No father could ask for more.

 

Happy birthday, son. Let’s party until 7:30!

Know Jack #452 Liars Table

“What is a writer of fiction but a liar with a license.”  Joanne Harris

 

Now and then I run across Facebook posts asking people to describe their job. My answer has always been that I sell lies. Seems I’m not the only fiction writer to think that way. I won’t comment on my skill level except to say I get lots of practice.

When I’m not editing other people’s lies to make them better, writing posts about publishing lies, or reading tales of fiction, I am weaving my own special brand of falsehood. Except on Tuesday mornings when things get really serious. That’s when I gather with my fellow vets to tell war stories—that sometimes serious, sometimes humorous, genre of fiction known only to veterans.

Our weekly gathering spot has been dubbed the Liar’s Table. The little congregation that meets there is as faithful as any church group and far more involved in participation than most. We are diverse and inclusive, but the equality of the truth-bending in storytelling is subject to question.

Though I’m the only writer in the group, we all seem to derive the same benefit that I do from my writing. That is, I feel better and may be a better person afterward. I’m certainly easier to get along with. In other words, it’s therapeutic. None of us have any misgivings about that.

Lest you think it’s simply a case of toxic masculinity running wild, there’s scripture that supports our meeting does us good. Solomon, the wisest man ever to live, said, “A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth up the bones.” We’re all old, so dry bones are a real health threat.

As far as the merry heart goes, well, we do a lot of laughing—mostly at ourselves for some of the outrageous things we did for our Uncle Sam. There were no phones that made videos back then for which we are all grateful. So, there’s no evidence which ensures immunity from prosecution and opens the door to the occasional mild exaggeration.

Happy Veterans Day.