So here we are again, nearing the holiday season. We’ve been meaning to update our Annual Updates for at least a week or two in hopes to get our Christmas update out, well, before Christmas.

The main reason we have for an early update is that we’ve moved since last year and want to make sure those who want to send us postal mail won’t have it bounced back because of the change in address.

Look for the update to appear here as well. Hopefully it will be soon.

Hey kids! So here I am, just feeling cranky, darn it. Let me confirm that crankiness is not just a teething child phenomenon.

With that said, I have been feeling some type of way about a bunch of things, like whether I am being judgmental or haughty in the way I feel about how other folks are dealing with life. I am struggling with trying to understand how people live sheltered lives and are shattered by the mundane. Or is there more to it, really? I want to not fake the love for others when I feel that I am “tending their garden”.

I am not saying “help my unbelief” exactly, but more to the point: God, help my crankiness”.

Peace and good night.

So here’s the thing:

I got a couple new CDs yesterday and decided to listen to them on my drive this morning. As it happened, I wasn’t going to the office but to the main location–a 40± mile drive. And these were worship CDs, right, so it was definitely good stuff.

Let me pause to say that I am one of those people who cry when moved by the spirit.

Okay, so I was nearing my destination when the atmosphere changed outside. It was beautiful at home but the closer I got to campus the more overcast it became, so much so that I asked myself out loud if there was a fire burning that I had missed hearing about.

At the same time, the atmosphere in my car changed. The song “Praise to the Lord”, a personal fave, came on. The presentation was fantastic and, you guessed it, I started crying. At 70 in the slow lane. The Spirit was there and it was awe-inspiring.

So the result of doing something that was not the best idea–in this case, driving while crying–did not result in some catastrophe but rather I was energized for my day and took time to admire the beauty that is SoCal on my drive times.

To quote our university president, Dr. Wallace: Yay, God.

So here it is. I was rushing this morning and had an epiphany. It was a good one, especially since it was accompanied by scripture. The verse that came was “I will never leave or forsake you”.

I went searching and there is Hebrews 13:5. The Jamieson, Fausset, and Brown commentary states that this is “a promise tantamount to the one given to Jacob (Gen. 28:15), to Israel (Deut. 31:6), to Joshua (Joshua 1:5), to Solomon (1 Chron. 28:20). It is therefore like a divine adage. What was said to them, extends also to us. He will neither withdraw His presence (“never leave thee”) nor His help (“nor forsake thee”).

Now, what brought this on included two things:
1. I was thinking about a personal situation a friend is going through
2. I was thinking about my friend Don’s death

In both situations, there are two sides of the thing:
a. If either of us (my friend mentioned in #1 above, or me as related to #2) had done or said anything differently, it might have made a difference.

And then there’s

b. If we had made a difference at some point, it most likely would not have changed the outcome as God ordained it.

So here’s how that plays out:
Imagine if I had been able to connect with my friend Don, say 10 years ago. We catch up on old times and all that. In God’s plan, I might have ideally had an opportunity to thank him for being my most excellent friend, and I might have had the chance to introduce him to my son. However, the same plan that might have allowed me those opprtunities also would not have kept Don from his destined end–it is a probability that my re-entry into his existence would not have made a difference in when his life ended.

Epiphany.

On the other and much more important hand, God never leaves us. It does not matter who leaves (or how or why they leave) because God never does. That’s why He is first. And boy did that make me feel better.

I hope it makes you fell better also.

Peace.

Hello gang!

So it has once again been forever since a new post to the Neal Family Adventures. Life happens.

I was inspired today by a wonderful piece of music. I am a fan of good tunes, and those that fall into the house category are often a fav. Today’s feast is a new addition to the Fresh Page website by Erwin Tjoe and it made me feel great as I listened.

I had been reminiscing a bit early this morning about a FaceBook update I had made earlier in the week; I had mentioned how great it would be if we were able, if only for an hour, to reconnect with loved ones so we could tell them how much we loved them and could share with them about some of the things that had been going on since last we saw them. This thought came to me while I was reading Dan Brown’s The Lost Symbol. Mr. Brown is the man who wrote the DaVinci Code and this book tells of the mysteries of the Masonic Order and how there is something secret going on in Washington DC. I won’t say more than that since you can check out the website and read an excerpt of the book for yourself. I wasn’t thrilled at the idea of the DaVinci Code but the excerpt I read of The Lost Symbol (in Parade Magazine, that came with a Sunday paper a few weeks back) made me want it. I read all 509 pages in about four days and the first thing I wanted was to share it with my dad, to get his opinion on the validity of the Masonic references. From what I remember of his days in the Order, it seemed pretty accurate–it brought back memories I hadn’t seen in my mind’s eye in years. It made me miss him. Interestingly, I was more interested in sharing this book with my dad than I was to share that I had completed my doctoral degree this year. I of course wanted him to know that too, but reading this book and experiencing the memories–the images of my mom and dad dressed to go to a Masonic event, my dad in his regalia for a cornerstone laying, my Nana in her Eastern Star whites–was overwhelming. Those thoughts made me think of all the folks I miss, that have gone on before me, of all the things I didn’t get to say or do with them; it made me imagine what I would do if I could go back in time, change some things, and see them–even if the ultimate outcome would be the same.

I would go to my dad and tell him about this year–my graduation, this incredible book that revealed a lot of the things he kept so secret…

I would go to my Nana and tell her about my family–show her a picture of my son who looks so much like her son…I’d ask her to tell me the family secrets…

I would go to other family members and friends, share the stories, gather the love, and bring it all back with me to the now, to live life anew…

This thing all things devours–

birds, beasts, trees:

Gnaws iron, bites steel:

grinds hard stones to meal.

Slays king, ruins town,

and beats high mountain down!

So, this quote from The Hobbit, a soliloquy from gollum when he tested Bilbo in the cave, comes to mind on the day I send my child off to his first day in high school.

Time is the answer, since it doesn’t stop or wait.

It was just a few short moments ago that I got the word from my doctor (and a little test strip) that I was pregnant.

It was just a few short moments ago that I was in a panic because my water had broken many weeks too soon.

It was just a few short moments ago that I got a ticket for parking in a disabled space at Burger King on the day I was bringing my preemie home from the hospital (the ticket got dismissed, by the way).

It was just a few short moments ago that I found out my child had been categorized as Autistic.

It was just a few short moments ago that I was taking my son out of a kindergarten prep program because they couldn’t deal with the fact that he wasn’t potty trained yet.

It was just a few short moments ago that I said good-bye to him at the doors of his kindergarten school.

It was just a few short moments ago that I cried while sitting at a table of school administrators and staff, telling them that my son would no longer and never be a student in that particular district again, and that I would one day sit on the school board that governed his new school (and I did get a seat on that board).

It was just a few short moments ago that my boy entered junior high.

It was just over a month ago that he graduated from junior high.

And today he starts high school.

Wow.

Hey! Long time no see.

I’ve been quite busy working on a new project, but that’s not the point of my stopping by.

I had an epiphany on the way to work this morning and needed to get it down.

So I was listening to this house mix, right, and in the midst of it were these great lyrics. I tried searchig to find a song that contained them but as of yet have had no luck. Maybe I’ll sit down and write them out myself one day (not any time too soon, I trust). Anyhow, it went something like this:

How’s your life? Are you happy? How’s your life without me? I bet you have more free time to make your money, spend time with your friends to do things that are funny. How’s your life? Is it better? How’s your life? Are you happy without me?

It’s got a very catchy beat and it’s fun to sing along to, even if you sing out of tune (wow…an image of the Beatles just ran through my mind…). Anyway, as I thought about those lyrics, I thought about the people who have come through my life at various times who I thought would be a part of it forever and turned out to be a fleeting moment in time and space. There were a couple who meant a lot, too. And as I tried not to be sad about that, God reminded me of a few things:

1. If He’d meant for them to be in my life forever, they would be, regardless of my stuff or theirs.
2. If they are no longer in my life, there must have been a reason that He had for not having them stay.
3. He has a plan for each of us and obviously the plan he had for me did not include them. Or vice versa–the plan he had for them did not include me.

It all boiled down to one of us not being able to handle the truth: either the other person did not have the stuff to be around when God put me on this path, or I didn’t have the stuff to be around when God put them on their path.

It’s just that simple.

It’s nothing personal–it had nothing to do with my feelings, or theirs, whatever those might have been at that moment in the space-time continuum. It was all about God’s plan for the both of us. And we better grow up and try to deal because that’s the way it is.

I felt better with that epiphany. They always do the trick.

Goodnight kiddies and see you next time.

Hey there gang!

Today’s harrowing adventure takes place at the office. It’s raining in SoCal today–thunder, lightning, and all. I’ve been watching the strikes from my office window and the lights just blinked, so hopefully I’ll have enough time to complete this post before any outtages…

I get an email devotional called Today’s Daily Boost. The topic today was “Returning to Normal” and it was too good not to share:

Return to Normal

——————————

Do you know who wrote that? Only one of the GREATEST science fiction writers of all time, Mr. Philip K. Dick. You should recognize him; he is the author of a number of stories and books that have been set to film, including Blade Runner, The Minority Report, and Next.

So why have I returned from yet another hiatus to mention the great PKD? Because, after the misery and anguish I have described in these pages, he has brought me the best language to describe something I could ever imagine. In this text he discusses love and grief, saying:

“When you love you cease to live for yourself; you live for another person.”

“Grief causes you to leave yourself. You step outside your narrow little pelt. And you can’t feel grief unless you’ve had love before it–grief is the final outcome of love, because it’s love lost. You do understand; I know you do. but you just don’t want to think about it. It’s the cycle of love completed: to love, to lose, to feel grief, to leave, and then to love again.”

“But to grieve; it’s to die and be alive at the same time. The most absolute, overpowering experience you can feel, therefore. Sometimes I swear we weren’t constructed to go through such a thing; it’s too much–your body damn near self-destructs with all that heaving and surging. But I WANT to feel grief. To have tears.”

“Grief reunites you with what you’ve lost. It’s a merging; you go with the loved thing or person that’s going away. In some fashion you split with yourself and accompany it, go part of the way with it on its journey. You follow it as far as you can go.”

“But finally,” Ruth said, clearing her throat, “the grief goes away and you phase back into this world. Without him.”

…”You cry, you continue to cry, because you don’t ever completely come back from where you went with him–a fragment broken off your pulsing, pumping heart is there still. A nick out of it. A cut that never heals. And if, when it happens to you over and over again in life, too much of your heart does finally go away, then you can’t feel grief any more. And then you yourself are ready to die. You’ll walk up the inclined ladder and someone else will remain behind grieving for you.”

Wow.

I had pretty much stopped crying a while before I read this. And then I cried for a couple days, I think. I needed to get away from it, from the depth of it, before I could read it again and quote it here for you. It describes what I’ve been feeling to the t (now that’s a weird expression that I never understood…until now). In my mind, I had imagined finding my friend Don again after all this time…what we would say to each other (I of course imagined it would be a re-connect via phone call or email communication), how happy we would both be to catch up on our exploits, and how we would plan to figure out how to get our families to meet each other and to see each other again. It took a giant nick out of my heart to find out he had passed from this space/time continuum. I lost breath, and for a time, the world was a much darker place. I tried to walk part-way up that inclined stair, to call out, to plead for him to come back, but without the power of God, could do nothing. Nothing, except hold and press tightly to the spot in my chest where the blood from the nick in my heart was running. I dream every now and again, standing on my lowly spot on the stair, holding in my pain; I look through the glass darkly in hope that I catch a glimpse of him, that he catches a glimpse of me, and knows that we have an appointment when I cross over. I need to tell him all these things and more, and I pray that I will be forgiven for being too late, for not reaching out, left only to stand and wonder.

Peace.

Hello all!

Have you seen the movie “Pulse“? There was this great line in the movie about making people immortal by trapping them in their own loneliness…it made me think about my most excellent friend who died last year and I wonder if part of the issue was loneliness.

All that made me consider the concept of dwelling. Merriam-Webster defines the word ‘dwell’ as “to remain for a time”, “to live as a resident” (exist, lie), “to keep the attention directed”, or “to speak or write insistently”; how do we get out of being in the condition of dwelling on something? I know–you are wondering what this has to do with the movie and here it is: if we dwell on loneliness, we “remain there for a time”…we ‘dwell’. With that, I became concerned about dwelling on my friend’s death; by dwelling on it, it becomes easier to imagine–dare I say, begin to believe–that it isn’t true. That in fact he is around in this space/time continuum, that the death thing was not real.

So my new plan is to cease dwelling. Or at least not dwell so much. It is hard, and it is painful to say good-bye.