Sponsorship Sunday – Week Twenty – Ronaldo

Post and post again. The great thing is that I’m starting to run out of children that still need sponsors! I love that more than I can tell you.

This weeks child, Ronaldo, is an easy one for one of you – he just needs medical sponsorship and we can tick off that box. Please prayerfully consider taking this last bit of his sponsorship under your wings.

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This week’s child is: Ronaldo.

Ronaldo

Ronaldo lives at Grace Village with his sisters Laika and Blondine, they are happy to be together. Ronaldo is very artistic and loves to draw. Ronaldo would like to be a teacher when he finishes school and enjoys his biology class most of all. Ronaldo likes all of the new vegetables they are eating at the feeding center and he also likes rice and beef. Ronaldo’s prayer request is that he be a good man.

Ronaldo came to Healing Haiti in July, 2008. Ronaldo and his siblings, Laika and Blondine, were abandoned by their mother because she could not care for them. Their father is deceased.

Birth Info
Birthdate: October 7, 1998
Place of Birth: Port au Prince, Haiti

It is my hope that one of you will find your heart touched by this child and take up a bit of Christ’s work by sponsoring them for an extended period. My wife and I are sponsoring a pair of sisters and we took on the commitment based on having to only gave up a fast-food dinner each day to change the life of a child. God came through with a very lucrative bit of voice over work for me that covered the bill that same day, but it really is as easy as skipping a value meal. Healing Haiti will do the right things for these children and I have full confidence in their work. I am not affiliated with them, they don’t endorse this blog, nothing like that at all. I just love kids (can’t be Santa and not love children) and know that Grace Village is the difference between life and death for many of these children. Please open your heart and prayerfully reflect on the opportunity God’s giving us to sponsor these children. Some of them have come out of slavery and have some of the toughest lives you could imagine prior to Grace Village.

Just click the link and it will take you directly to the page where you can sponsor this week’s child. And if God is particularly good and that child is sponsored when you get there, please grab another smiling face and change their life instead. My goal is to put Sponsorship Sunday out of business as quickly as possible and take that day off each week. Thank you. God bless you for your generosity.

Sheepdog Disorder.

My girl Stormy has had a rough few weeks. I’ve been gone a lot and busy when I’m home. Same applies to my wife, but she can talk to me on the phone – Stormy cancelled her calling plan.

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Rescue dogs have a lot of issues. They are flight risks, they are unsure of their place in your home, and they have histories that shame the human race. Stormy is sometimes joyous, sometimes distant, sometimes fearful. But she’s always my girl.

Stormy

I’m pretty confident in most things. I know who I am and how I think I treat others. I’m insecure about my writing – not being published can do that to you. I’m also insecure about my relationship with this little dog.

I want to bring her joy and love her in such a way that she’ll never doubt her worth in our family. I would like to make her comfortable with my size and deep voice. I’d like to see her own the house like her predecessors did in their prime. Most of all, I’d like a lick on the face and a wag of the tail every time we see each other.

That’s not happening yet. I hope it will one day, but I’m ready to accept it (grudgingly) if it doesn’t. This has to be about her, not me. I consider her a blessing in more ways than I can even list. Starting with her plugging the wound in my heart when Maisie died.

Yesterday was a typical Stormy day. I got home from work and let her out of her cage. She ran around the living room and was obviously glad to see me. That passed in just a few minutes and she became distant by the time we’d walked out the back door to take a walk. Yes, we have taken two walks and a couple of road trips just to broaden her horizons a bit. The walk around the block was better than the last time – less fear, more curiosity.

When we got home she ran up to the back door and wanted to go inside. Not a problem, but she hadn’t done her business. So I stood in the yard at 0600 and waited for her to come down the steps – it was a wait in vain.

Inside we went and she found a spot far away from me with her back turned. A few hours later my wife came down and we got caught up. Stormy came by to assert her place. It seems that I’m taken for granted when we’re together, but if my wife is there it’s jealousy time. Not as bad as Maisie (horrible) but more than Ed (he didn’t care who was around, just don’t step on him.)

While we were talking a strong thunderstorm rolled into the area. The poor dog is badly named – she hates storms. Within minutes she was right there next to me on the floor seeking comfort. I swelled with pride – PACK LEADER!!! Bedtime came quickly and she followed me upstairs. Into the corner, back to me and ignore the dude with the beard.

Then a funny thing happened. My wife came back from her errands and went to release the dog from my room. Stormy hopped up on my bed and wouldn’t leave. I was asleep so my wife stopped just short of dragging the dog off of the bed. When I got up Stormy stuck to me like glue for the remaining time before I went to work.

This morning we repeated the release from the box, wag of the tail, and trip outside. She ran down the stairs and did her thing and then a strange thing happened: She ran right back up and sat next to me on the top step. Touching me. Looking at my face from two feet away. When I put my arm around her I could feel her relax – not tense up as is usually the case.

We sat on that step and talked for quite a while. It is said that dogs have a vocabulary of 250 words. I hope that three of them are in her lexicon, as I said them over and over to her in the still darkness of a fall morning: I love you.

I do love her. I may never adjust to her eccentric behavior. Nor she to mine. But I will keep showing her the love that she obviously needs. And I will give it unconditionally. She’s warming up to that face-lick moment. I can’t wait.

Who will you show unconditional love to today?

Who Are All Those Beautiful Women?

Yesterday I thanked God that political correctness has not yet completely ruined my workplace. No names, but one of my coworkers said that they’d shared my recent Facebook posts with someone in the office. That someone, a female, asked who all the beautiful women were in my photographs.

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Those beautiful women (and it seems that all of my male friends were either average or invisible in those photos) were my fellow authors at the American Christian Fiction Writers conference in Indianapolis, Indiana. I spent three great days with some of the best authors in fiction.

There is a mistaken perception that all Christian fiction is romantic, pedantic, or just ick. Not so. And the authors are a scream. I know that’s hard to imagine in our culture, but it is often said that any comedian can be funny for a while if they work dirty. Only the brilliant ones can keep it clean and keep you laughing.

That describes my fellow authors perfectly. From Amy Matayo to Rajdeep Paulus, they are fun to hang out with and listen to for hours at a time. Throw in Donald Brobst and Kare Skuland and you’ve got the full range of intellectual pursuits, great writing, and interesting histories.

I’ll skip the name dropping at this point and tell you instead that a couple of the “big guns” at the conference are exactly the kind of people you’d like to hang out with as well. I sat with them in the bar (yes, some other Christian authors drink and smoke, but don’t tell the publishers about it) and laughed a lot over their great tales, engaging personalities, and snide remarks.

What differentiated this bunch from any other group of fabulously handsome and brilliant people? All of them served the same master: Jesus. All of these exceptional people write for him. We opened the conference with a worship service. How many organizations do that? I was in need of it after the previous six weeks getting ready for the conference. I was running on empty before I stood in that room with 500+ of my colleagues and lifted God’s name up high. Tears of joy ran down my face and my heart was light. I stepped outside myself and my own little problems and got ready to work for His glory.

It’s interesting how something like this can impact you as a writer. This is my third conference with that group, fifth in all. Each time I learn something about my craft. Sometimes it’s in a class. Sometimes it’s from one of their conversations – and sometimes it’s just from the spirit of the association. It is a major blessing to go to something like this and learn about your craft with people who share so much in common with you.

I spent my final day wandering the streets of Indianapolis with Kare Skuland. We walked a few miles in our quest to find toys for his children back in Norway. We shared a cab to the airport. And we talked for hours about our lives, our faith, our writing, and the influence of evil on the western culture. I had a new brother that grew up on the other side of the Atlantic but was next to me all that time.

It’s an honor to be in that group. And to fully answer the question of my coworker – those are my sisters. I love them all.

Huh. No More $4.50 Coffee For Me.

This is not to say that my wife may not drag me into a Starbucks. But instead of taking the neutral stance of the past few years and leaving it to the observation of local laws, they’ve asked me not to come into their stores.

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That’s too bad. I rather like the smoothies, my wife likes the hot chocolate. I’ve been known to munch a pastry or twelve on occasion.

This policy may change. I think the CEO worded his letter badly. I think what he meant to ask was that customers no longer carry a weapon openly into their stores. My opinion is that if you are allowed to carry an open carry is fine. I also realize that it freaks some people out to see a handgun on my hip. That’s why I don’t do it. Not because I can’t, but I stir up enough trouble most places without adding a firearm on display.

But the letter doesn’t say that – it says don’t come in armed unless you’re law enforcement. Not even if you’re the woman with the stalking ex-husband who carries a gun in her purse to protect herself from the psycho. (I know that woman – taught her to shoot.) Nor does it say, “You can carry concealed if legally allowed because nobody will get their shorts in a wad and we kind of like the Constitution as it is.” Nope, it says I should stay away if I’m carrying.

They’ll get their wish. I figure with the amount I spend there each year I’ll have enough for a new Ruger .45 in about 18 months. And I’ll still be drinking coffee and cocoa but in somebody different’s joint.

Starbucks couldn’t drive me away with the overpriced coffee, but telling me I’m not wanted in their store sealed the deal.

Mental Illness Is Not A Crime.

On Monday an evil man shot twelve people to death. Oooh, too harsh? How can I judge him? What gives me the right to call him evil?

I base that appellation on the fact that murder is evil.

I can hear it now – “But he was mentally Ill! He heard voices and had a history of disturbed behavior.”

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That’s right. He did have a history of mental health problems. Just like millions of other Americans. Just like some of you reading this blog. Just like your husband, son, daughter, cousin, wife, mother, father, and kid brother. How many of them have engaged in mass murder?

The point here is the media is ready to blame the shooting on serious mental health problems and ignore the fact that perfectly rational people do essentially the same thing from time-to-time. Not all mass murder suspects have mental health problems. In fact, some of the most memorable ones in my lifetime have been judged perfectly sane in most aspects. Sociopaths, but functional and normal to all outward appearances. So what’s the special something that makes them “snap” and start burying bodies under the house, shooting people at work, and throwing bombs into Pizza Huts? I think it’s the presence of evil, not mental health problems.

Millions of Americans struggle with mental health issues every day. It’s a living Hell for them. Strong word, accurate description. They are in torment and pain from the illness. Yet they struggle successfully with controlling their actions. They get up and go to work. They provide comfort for others in volunteer roles. They worship next to you at your church and watch out for your kids at the swimming pool. How do they differ from us? They have an illness.

The mentally ill are not criminals, and should not be rounded up and “listed” in some central data base. I am genuinely disturbed (perhaps I’m mentally ill) over the rush to create a data base of everyone with serious psychiatric problems. It seems that many are willing to strip the mentally ill of their privacy, their constitutional rights, and their individuality in the rush to deal with the occasional evil person who lets loose on society. This is not the solution.

In the past five years 131 people were killed in mass shootings as listed by the Wall Street Journal (which are those which include 2 or more victims and get enough media sensation to make the list, generally public settings with lots of cameras.) There were about 17,000 homicide deaths during each of those years (using the high year as the average, as not all the statistics are available for the last two years) for a total of 85,000 deaths. So, if you double the 131 just to eliminate nit picking, we have 262 deaths from mass shootings out of 85,000 – which makes for .3% of all deaths by homicide. Another view is that we have lost 262 citizens out of 319 million due to mass shootings – .000008% of our population.

What percentage of these is acceptable? None. 0. Nada. All are a waste and a tragedy. But are we really ready to put tracking collars on people with a health problem for .000008% of our population killed? Especially when most of the deaths in that parade (I read about each incident while doing this post) were acts of evil, stupid, angry people and not the mentally ill? It’s even more ridiculous to try and make us all safe if you look at the weapons used in homicides – feet, knives, guns, blunt objects, narcotics, drowning, fire, and explosives. All of them have one thing in common – people. Evil taking hold of people. Because nowhere in that list is there a murder category listed as “mental illness.” No study, no statistical extract, nothing I could find blamed mental illness as a weapon of choice for murder.

People have been killing other people since Cain and Abel. No firearm involved there, just evil. John Wayne Gacy didn’t shoot any of his victims, nor did Richard Speck. Both, however were evil. The list is long and rather tedious of evil people who have killed others over the years. And while some of them were mentally ill, the number of people with a mental illness that haven’t so much as killed a baby bird is larger by a magnitude of orders.

Let’s all calm down and evaluate this rush to make everything in our little lives safe. It won’t be safe. Ever. That’s the nature of life. In the meantime we’re scaring tens of millions of citizens, coworkers, friends, and associates away from getting mental health treatment by virtue of this hysteria. Would you go to the doctor and have your arthritic fingers treated if it would result in you possibly losing your job, your driver’s license, your ability to hunt, your ability to take care of your own children, and your ability to defend yourself? Of course not. So why are we doing that to people with mental illness?

In general, the ones who perpetrate these crimes have a history of odd behavior and criminal activity in their past. They have disclosed to the police, a coworker, a boss, or their doctor that they fully intend to hurt someone and do it soon. I’m not talking about the “I’d like to throw that miserable creep out the window” type statements. I’m talking about the “I’m going to take a shotgun and kill every living soul in that classroom this coming month. I’ve not picked the day, but it’s coming” kind of statements. Those folks, and only those folks, should be evaluated by professionals for their own safety. But the 47 year old housewife with auditory hallucinations is another story. She knows they’re not real and fights them every day. She has a grip. Should we destroy her life and register her like a sex-offender? For what? Potential acts?

There is an issue with mental illness and the stigma of seeking treatment already. Let’s not drive our nation into an orgy of labeling people over a largely treatable disease. Instead, let’s work to identify the causes of the illness and treat it more effectively. Don’t stamp a scarlet letter “M” on those who suffer from mental illness. Stamp an “E” for evil on the acts of murderers instead. It’s the right thing to do.