The Multi-Faceted Marvel of An Ideal Friend Connections with other humans and the healthy concept of belonging to another person are part of what we hope for in the multi-faceted marvel that is an ideal friend. From the cradle to the grave, we desire the close relationships that reward us with security and contentment. I’ve … Continue reading “Where To Find The Ideal Friend”
This photo of my boxer captured her looking at me as if to say, “I have a hole in my neck and a significant set of stitches. Did you have this done to me with a good reason?
I like to think my dog is super-engaging with a magnanimous personality. The day I gave her canned food instead of the dry variety which she’d become accustomed to, she respectfully backed away to evaluate the shear reality of its presence. I could almost hear her mouth the words, “Sweet mother of Jesus!” (as in: where has this been all my life?)
I went so far as to ask my pastor if, in telling this episode, it would be considered taking the Lord’s name in vain. The pastor was impressed with my talking dog. Somewhere in the discussion, I’m fairly certain he assured me that my talking dog would not be held accountable for taking the Lord’s name in vain. I’m not so certain about how I was to be judged; I don’t want to take chances with it.
But, can’t you see that she’s a believer? She wants to trust a higher power who knows what’s best for her, even if she cannot always understand why.
Three Years Later, The Scar’s Still There
Of course, there was a good reason for the incision! Trust me. The vet took something out that didn’t belong there.
I like to look back at that photo of my dog’s questioning eyes. Hers was more than a surface wound, but like that type of wound, in time it healed.
My dog can serve up an eye-roll with the best of ’em, and she knows where her security lies. It’s good to know in whom we place our trust, isn’t it?
The Challenge To Trust
I believe it was an editor who indirectly presented me with the challenge to write about trust.
I wrote, then, about it in my novel, solely to protect my daddy—funny as that may sound—to protect the glimpse of my father who allowed me to see that he set out to provide for me. His heart’s desire was to be the best father he could be. And he wanted me to trust him.
I had tangible proof of his desire because of the bank account that he opened in my name shortly after I was born. He put two dollars in the account, and long after his death, when I was an adult with kids of my own, I found the bank book.
There in the little book, the two dollars plus the small amount of earned interest on it over the decades that had passed, was proof of his deposit. That’s all. But that was plenty. It was evidence of his heart for me.
It’s A Love Story Based On My Father.
The novel comes from a desire to honor my father, his life, and why he was who he was. My decision to write about him came out of my wanting to understand the reasons behind his seriousness and protectiveness.
The editor I mentioned earlier told me this after reading a section in book three of my trilogy: “Simon was kind of a jerk.”
Whoa, boy! Hold on a cotton-picking minute! You’re not allowed to say that about my father. Maybe I could, and did, as a teenager. But you, my friend, do not have license to call him such a name. And I’ll tell you why—and I proceeded to defend my father because of what happened to him as a young man.
In the story, the guilt-ridden young man, Simon Hagan is running from a lie and mad at God. He leaves the roots that are his foundational strength for the life he’s seeking—to chase a dream—believing that by his own strength and perseverance he can overcome anything. Simon thinks he’s in control. He finds he is not.
The lie is his belief that God could have made better outcomes but didn’t. God’s “failure” sends Simon on life’s journey with a self-imposed directive: “I’ll do it myself”.
The story’s heart comes from the song The Impossible Dream.
I Could Trust My Father.
I didn’t always know that. Consequently, I didn’t honor him as I should have while he was alive. Now I do.
Admittedly, there’s love lost between me and my publisher because I was under the impression my book, EASTBOUND BUS FROM FLAGSTAFF, was coming out before Christmas. I guess I failed to ask which Christmas.
The book will be out . . . and you’ll be the first to know the release date.
Dogs don’t talk back . . . but dogs can sure say a lot with a roll of their eyes. So can humans.