Does Every City Have a God?

My five-year-old grandson, Paul David is a deep thinker and a dreamer. He fantasizes about many things, especially superheroes. I always say he’s an up and-coming fiction writer.

He asked his mom one day, “Does every city have a God?”

“No,” my daughter Pam replied, “There is only one God.”

“Did God make water?”

“Yes, God made water.”

Paul David wrinkled his nose. “Naah…maybe his grandfather made water.”

Pam laughed. There goes his active imagination again, she thought. A few weeks later Pam and her kids spent a long weekend in Washington DC with her sister seeing the sites. They went to Sunday service. This was Paul’s first time in another church. As the priest walked in Paul’s eyes widened. He turned to his mom. “You said there is only one God.”

Pam smiled. “Yes, Paul, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

He pointed at the priest. “Well then, who is that?”

She leaned over and whispered, “Paul, that man isn’t God. He’s one of God’s helpers. God has helpers in every church.” 

She had to laugh. His quirky questions about God now made sense.  And now he understood there really is only one God. Someday he will understand there is only one Superhero.

The Naked Salute

I've always said my husband, Frank, has a way with words. He is the master of the well-turned phrase and the quick comeback. Not me. I have to labor over every word.

One day he was exercising after work. As commissioner of the PA State Police he often swims at the training pool at the state police academy. He had the pool to himself, but several cadets were working out in the gym. After leaving the pool Frank entered the locker room to change out of his suit. While standing in front of his locker naked, he heard a voice behind him. "Sir, I didn't give you a proper salute." He turned around and saw a fully clothed cadet standing at attention and saluting.

"That's okay, son," my husband said, "I'm out of uniform."

 I laughed until I cried when I heard this story.The cadet never cracked a smile.

 

Don't Worry Be Happy

Frank and I just got back from a ten day cruise in the Caribbean. I can still feel my toes digging into white sand. Aaah.

This was our first cruise in the middle of winter, and despite the mild temperatures, and no major snow storms while we were gone, it was a much appreciated getaway. Vacations can be a flurry of activity, and mind you, we did plenty of eating, snorkeling, and boating—but rest defined this experience more than anything else. We spent a lot of time in the thermal suite, relaxing in whirlpools, lying on heated tile lounges, and sitting in steam baths and saunas. I paid no attention to my laptop, looked at no emails, wrote no book chapters, and checked no one’s status on Facebook. We read books and watched the sunset. The only bar we visited lay hidden under palm trees on an isolated beach. We ignored the casino, and retired early most evenings. The gentle rocking of the boat and the sound of water slapping the side of the ship lulled us to sleep every night.

The next to last day, I was lying on our bed gazing out the window at the huge expanse called ocean. God’s presence seemed to envelop me. “Be still and know that I am God” from Psalm 46 came to mind. Cease striving and know that I am God, says one of my favorite translations. And suddenly it hit me.

Quit worrying. Quit trying so hard. Don’t think about what happens next. Enjoy this moment. It’s my gift to you.

After a week of relaxing and leaving my cares behind, I thought I was doing that. But at that moment I realized that my head needs to rest as much as my body. Only then can I acknowledge God’s presence. He is in control. Didn’t He say to cast all my cares on Him?

At our last writers’ meeting someone mentioned a book called OneThousand Gifts which talks about the power of gratitude. A mind at rest takes time to be thankful. But can I let my brain pause now that I am back from vacation? I’ll give it my best shot.

Christmas Letter 2011

Merry Christmas!

I hope this has been a blessed year for you, despite the financial climate.

Our kids are doing well. Pam enjoys being a stay-at-home mom with her three kids. Kim still teaches music. Her son, Austin, got his driver’s license this year. Chip likes his teaching job in Italy, and Sherri is happy as an agent in D.C. Kelly made a career change. She now attends the Aveda beauty school in NYC. She loves cutting hair and graduates in January. Now I have my own beautician!

To say this has been an eventful year for Frank and I would be an understatement. Frank’s appointment by the governor as State Police Commissioner last January put a new spin on our lives. Then his statement about the Sandusky case, and the moral responsibility to report abuse whirled like a tornado as his words went national. He did a few interviews, but declined dozens more. Even so, the words he spoke at the press conference were repeated in articles, blogs, on TV, and even in Sports Illustrated. No one was more surprised than Frank. He never suspected that speaking about moral responsibility would hit a nerve with the nation.

There has been some criticism, but for the most part, he has received overwhelming support. The most striking example of how his words have affected others happened last week. A mother of ten drove fourteen hours from Michigan to Harrisburg to shake Frank’s hand. She had reported a crime and been criticized for it. She wanted to thank him, because his words gave her confidence that she had done the right thing.

I pray this Christmas season that we may we all speak life-giving words, as we reflect on the One who spoke everything into existence.

“For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given:
And the government shall be upon his shoulder:
And his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor,
The Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace
Isaiah 9: 6

Turkey Trauma

I can’t remember how many Thanksgiving dinners I have cooked in my lifetime, but it’s close to forty out of the forty-three years Frank and I have been married. I’ve got it down to a science. I cooked my first turkey less than two weeks after we were married. We had just moved from Pennsylvania to the army base in Lawton, Oklahoma, and were far away from any family. I roasted a twelve pound turkey, and learned that my new husband could gobble leftover turkey six days in a row and love every bite.

Frank spent three months learning how to call in artillery fire before leaving for Viet Nam. The next year I spent the holiday with my parents while Frank fought in the war. We have spent Thanksgiving together ever since.

We raised our five kids quite a distance from grandparents, aunts and uncles, and so we often celebrated without benefit of extended family. Now we have lots of grandkids, and I’m happy to say, we get to spend Thanksgiving with our own extended family. When I’m feeling stressed about shopping, cooking and the holiday rush that begins in November, I try to remember that it’s not about turkey. It’s about family.

Penn State Tragedy: A Week Like No Other

My husband, Frank, who is the Pennsylvania Police Commissioner, stepped out of his room at the Nittany Lion Inn on Friday morning when a surreal sight stopped him. At each doorway lay a complimentary copy of USA Today. As he walked down the hall, the headline, “Victim One,” repeated over and over like a silent cry.

Frank spent Thursday night in State College because rioting broke out on the campus the night before. By the next day, sentiment changed from anger over Joe Paterno’s firing, to compassion for the victims. A candlelight vigil demonstrated that.

To say that this week has been shocking, sad, and horrific would be an understatement. Our prayers go out to the victims, the students of Penn State, and those involved in the scandal.

No one was more surprised than Frank to see his remarks about the moral obligation to report child abuse race across the nation like a giant tsunami. Those words echoed the sentiments of a grieving public.

But in every tragedy, God provides the opportunity for healing. I believe people will be more willing to report abuse, and legislators will propose new laws. Penn State can be reborn as a better university with higher standards. Already, the Penn State community has shown that compassion for the victims rises higher than football.

But this story will not go away. “Victim One” will cry in the halls of justice until justice is done.

Who Knew?

Our pastor preached a message today about how life doesn't get easy just because we say yes to God and follow Him. On the contrary, when we follow his path we are usually in a fog, and are never sure of the next step. It seems that just as we think we know where we are going, He switches things up.

Take my writing journey, for example. I spent fifteen years writing and perfecting an urban fantasy. I never dreamed I would put down something I was sure God wanted me to write, and start a different project, but I did. From what I understand, this is the normal path for writers. My apologies to my former students who wanted to see that book in print, and heard me read it many times. Truthfully, my currant project is much better.

I have written 10,000 words and have 20,000 more to write before it is finished. However, an agent I met at a conference is already interested in it. I couldn't get an agent interested in my last book when it was completed.

Will this book get published? I don't know. But I do know that I am a better writer for not giving up and persisting to improve.I don't know what the next step is, but I will persevere at this one until God shows me the next one.