- I understand this is out of topic for my normal (yes, I use the term loosely) blogs, but I am about to pick up my pen again (laptop, actually) and write another book, this one an autobiography (not that I am famous but I have led a fascinating life that might help someone else). So, of course, thought of my favorite authors. It occurred to me that the absolute beauty and mesmerizing quality of Jane Austen’s great classic novels is the relatable quality they possess and the positive spin and wholesomeness of that spin. I love Louisa May Alcott for the same reason. Also, I am female and very few men would have the patience to understand how true these characters are to what we go through. There are amazing coincidences, granted, but who cannot relate to financial hardships, choosing a spouse, wrestling with emotions, parental interferences, sibling love and also rivalry, moves, vacations, death of loved ones. Who cannot relate to these experiences? Everyone knows an Elizabeth and hopefully a Darby, everyone knows an obnoxious Mrs. Bennett or detestable Fanny, and I believe I once dated a Willoughby. Lol And I think in real life also our story may have familiar experiences with different faces and meaning but varies so sharply that each view of their life is decidedly unique. To know people fully is to love them. This is why God loves us so much more than any human can, because He made us and knows us best. We are characters that develops as our stories and journeys continue on, each taking twists and turns that are unique to us but never a surprise to Him, the Author. I love getting to know other people for this reason and am very thankful for all of it. We all have amazing stories to tell that will help someone.
Most people won’t read this past the title. Modern psychobabble paints a world of ways we are not responsible for our behavior. People my age and younger seem oblivious to consequences for behavior and expect all good things for no effort. “Great things should always happen to me because I exist” seems to be the pervading ideology. And here I am waki g up at 42.5 heard of age and a revelation hit me square in the jaw and I feel such an immense empowerment from it, such a great sense of rightness, making more sense than anything before. Here it is…
I am responsible for everything bad that has ever happened to me. Since I was of age to make decisions for myself of my own volition, every decision since has brought me every measure of pain I have endured. Now, of course other people have their own responsibilities and that is there business and Daddy going off to Heaven was no one’s fault and some of those things hurt like crazy. But had I humbly obeyed to begin with, God would not have had to bring the hammer down to teach me that He is enough. God is enough. God is everything. He is to be praised and worshipped, not any other human or creature. God’s way is the only way to go for it leads to Him, all that truly matters long term. He is beauty, love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control, hope, salvation, Creator, etc. No one else on he planet, no matter how perfect they may seem, is anything next to God. By doing things my way because God gave me a strong will and sound mind and enormous heart, I fancied I knew a better way to get those things, through relationships I wanted. When your way differs from God’s way and He loves you, He will fight to teach you the lesson and get your head straight. And if you don’t pay attention with inconveniences, God will give you kicks or nudges, and then bigger tools until, if you are pigheaded like I was, God gives you excruciating pain and heartbreak to finally get you down on your knees before Him. This sounds mean but the opposite is true. He cares toomuch to just give up and send us to hell when this brief life is gone. He wants us saved and walking with Him here to eternity.
So, knowing I am to blame, I then had to confess my initial and subsequent sins to God and ask His forgiveness. Then, and this is harder, I had to forgive myself. Then, in my case, the pain gets left behind and wonderful lessons and good memories (because there is always some) can move forward with me. This is my freedom!!!!
I re-read this masterpiece of a book, The Little Engine That Could, to my 5 year old daughter. The beautiful thing about children is that quite often things are new to them if not revisited in a month or two or a year even. The pictures are endearing and colorful, the story is poignant and inspiring, the flow of the phrasing is nice and conversational and it is made for children who are intelligent. Such a sweet book lifts the heart and provides hope to children who read it and parents who read it. For you see, we parents are confronted with this reality every day also. There are always a lot of people looking down their nose and judging us based on appearance or how quiet we can keep our children in social situations. We are around people who are so wrapped up in themselves that they will not stop to visit or help or anything. And the last person to come along may not be the sleekest or most powerful or best person but they can sure help get you over the hump, over the hill. And over the hill is accomplishment. Nothing is accomplished without a fair amount of work and sometimes good happens with help.
As a doctor of audiology (or doctor of anything), you do a lot of reading. Pretty intensive reading it is and not always the most interesting stuff. Invariably, every fellow of mine, every other doctor or colleged person struggles with reading for fun. There is no time when we are in years and years of intesive schooling. And when we get out there is repayment of student loans, finding and working a career, family and essentially all your life you put on hold to finish schooling. And here is the thing, it takes a long time to read a good book for fun again. It took me at least 3 years to even consider picking one up, and I have always been a very avid reader. I love murder mysteries (by Agatha Christie, of course and Sherluck Homes books) and the classics (Jane Eyre, anything by Jane Austen, much by Charles Dickens, the Bronte sisters’ books, etc.). Other things interest me also, Bible studies, of course the Bible (should have mentioned that first because that one I continued during school), nonfiction, novels, anything but romance novels (porn in pen- lol). And I was thinking of picking up a book after a long stint of busy and mourning and caretaking my dad and watching him fading away with dementia in the nursing home and looking after my mom and homeschooling the kids and enduring false accusations by a crazy woman with a problem and so many things life has luxuriously offered me of late. And I look at the book in my hand, happens to be a copy of my novel I wrote long ago when life was lighter (Lady Sarah Preston) and I turn the page and something unique to reading happens. My mind travels. My thoughts are taken where the writer (me in this case- so weird) leads me. I am sent to another place and imagine the scenery there and picture the actions and tones of voice of the characters, I fall in love with an imperfect heroine, I ride the horses along with them, I think of their feelings and experience their emotions. Reading a good book does what nothing else really can and much moreso than watching pictures or movies on computer or tv (which is useful also at times). Reading allows more of your mind to be involved in co creating the scene and watching it unfold to learn new truths or points of view or feel good then the hero wins in the end or mourn if they don’t. So many things happen when we read. And the opening of our minds in this way is invaluable and exciting as nothing else is. Hard to read everything but really fun to try. 🙂