Building with Spaghetti

It wouldn’t make sense to build a house with spaghetti. Cooked, the spaghetti would be too limp, uncooked it would be too brittle – and either limp or brittle, a spaghetti house would not last.

Yet too many times in life – we resort to spaghetti building.

Scottish National Party First Minister Alex Salmond resigned his position following his party’s unsuccessful bid to gain Scottish independence from the United Kingdom. Prior to the election, those pushing for independence and those pushing against it spent a ton of money, energy, effort and publicity pushing their agendas. In the end, they were engaging in spaghetti building.

Wherever we live, we need to become involved in our government and voice our concerns and choices. If we don’t, someone with a louder voice takes over. We need to stand up for what we believe in and be willing to expend time, energy and effort to make that stand. But we also need to remember that much of what we do in this life – no matter how impassioned and well-intentioned – is simply spaghetti building. This life that we live right now on planet earth is not intended to be the end of the story. No matter how much money we spend on our health and appearance and how much success and fame we garner down here on earth – in the end, we shatter like broken spaghetti.

The good news is that Jesus Christ, Son of God, is eternal. He is forever. He has built a forever place for us out of gold and precious stones to replace the earthly spaghetti houses we are building. The body shells that hold us on this planet and return to dust like crushed spaghetti get left behind when we “die.” We don’t need them anymore because we get new heavenly bodies that never grow old, never hurt, never sorrow – never lose their perfection.

So when things don’t turn out the way you think they should, don’t get discouraged. Take a handful of spaghetti, crush it and say, “This setback is temporary. It doesn’t matter. God’s plan for me is perfect and it’s eternal.”

http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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Shell Decorating

A pub in our area is welcoming students back to university with shell decorating contests and cocktails.

Contest categories include best fingernails, most glitter, most unique tattoos, wildest hair, and most body art – all of which will be left behind when we die. Our bodies are mere shells to hold the part of us that really matters while we’re alive. When we die – the us that is really us – escapes into eternity. Shells are buried. What a sad waste of expense and energy is reflected in decorating shells that will return to dust when we die.

The Bible advises in 1 Peter 3:3, “Do not let your adornment be merely outward…rather let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God.”

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to make the best of the bodies that God gave us by taking care of them. It honors God when Christians set themselves apart from the rest of the world by separating our appearances from non-believers. But the Bible tells us in 1 Timothy 6:7, “For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.” With that in mind, does it make sense to spend time and money decorating shells?

Shell decorating contests are vain, useless, empty events. As for the cocktails? Alcohol poisons the shells that we spend so much money decorating.

http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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Dust Bunny Danger

The problem with writers – or at least me – is that we would rather sit and write than do anything else in the world…especially cleaning and housework.

If the dust bunnies under the bed hadn’t grown so large that they were thumping the floor and keeping us awake at night, I might have left them. Having a long-haired dog like a rough collie seems to exacerbate the danger of dust bunnies. Make no mistake – dust bunnies can be dangerous. I found that out the hard way.

Two years ago (yes, it had been two years since I vacuumed under the bed – I don’t clean, I write) I got down on my hands and knees and used the hose on the vacuum cleaner to clean under all the furniture in the bedroom. That praiseworthy achievement ended in pain and shame. Following it, I did something that I never do, something that I hadn’t done for 10 years before cleaning under the furniture, and something I haven’t done since. I went to the doctor.

My left arm became horribly swollen and discolored, not to mention painful. It was so severe that I made a doctor’s appointment. That’s when I learned about the danger or dust bunnies. They might not bite – but they sure can thump.

Certain that I had been bitten by a venomous spider that had been lurking under the dresser, I took pictures of my swollen arm from all angles. I planned to post the pictures on Facebook to warn others of the danger. The doctor, however, told me in no uncertain terms that I had not been bitten by a poisonous spider. First, he said, there are no venomous spiders in Scotland. Second, there were no spider fang marks on my arm – a point of entry for the poison. The swelling and discoloration was caused by a huge, blood-filled bruise.

Now the only two things hiding under the furniture were dust bunnies and spiders. So that pretty much establishes the culprit, wouldn’t you say? Yeah, I think so, too – dust bunnies. They hide and reproduce and live their entire lives outside the healing touch of sunlight and open air. No wonder they become grumpy and dangerous.

Without Jesus, the Light of the Word, even upright-walking, air-breathing, sun-worshiping humans can become grumpy and dangerous. We are all born with a sin nature and a natural inclination to take the easy path even when it’s wrong.

Asking Jesus to come into our hearts and be our Lord and Savior protects us from the danger of spiritual dust bunnies. Darkness cannot abide with Light and the Light of Jesus chases evil out of our lives and seals us for eternity.

Jesus did everything necessary for our spiritual cleaning when He died on the cross in our place to forgive our sins. We still have to clean under the furniture.

http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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Mind Your Step

Mind Your Step. Simple advice that saves lives.

One misstep is all it takes to walk into the path of danger or sustain injuries. Physical missteps have sent me tumbling off a ladder; sliding down a cliff; treading in wet cement; tracking wet paint across a wooden floor; encountering a rattlesnake; falling on ice; plummeting into cold water; getting trampled by a runaway horse; tearing a muscle in my thigh; breaking my ankle; getting lost.

Health and safety regulations abound in an attempt to prevent misstep injuries. Ladders carry warnings not to stand on the top step. Barriers are built along drop-offs on mountain roads and paths. Workers erect signs to warn pedestrians away from paint and wet cement. Emergency radios broadcast ice warnings. Signs along wildlife areas warn to watch for snakes. Missteps still happen, but warning signs and barriers frequently save lives and prevent injury.

Mind Your Step warnings seem incapable of keeping me from getting lost.

When the paint dries, when the cement sets – physical Mind Your Step signs come down. Spiritual Mind Your Step signs have no expiration date. Psalm 37 states, “The steps of a good person are ordered by the LORD and the LORD delights in that person’s path…none of their steps shall slide.” When we keep in step with God, He keeps us from falling down or getting lost in the chaos of life in this fallen world. He keeps us safe. Our outward circumstances don’t change; we still face the same illness, heartbreak and disappointment – the same trials – as other people. Becoming a Christian doesn’t safeguard against suffering. Becoming a believer installs a coping mechanism. With Jesus living inside us, we have the strength and endurance to get up and keep going every time life knocks us down.

Becoming a Christian does not equate to financial and material blessings either. The Bible posts another Mind Your Step sign in Psalm 73:”My feet had almost tumbled; my steps had nearly slipped…for I was envious of the boastful when I saw the prosperity of the wicked…until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I understood their end. Surely they are in slippery places and are brought down in a moment.”

The closer we get to God, the less we will care about obtaining physical comforts that stay behind when we die. The less time we will spend comparing ourselves to what other people have and envying those who have more.

I worked for a veterinarian. Neither he nor his wife was a believer. They told me they didn’t need God because they had great lives and had done it all themselves without help from God or anyone else. They owned an ostentatious home on the lake and drove pretentious cars. They had the best of everything. He became an alcoholic; she became addicted to gambling. Within four short years, they were divorced and had lost everything. They stood in a slippery place and lost their footing.

Next time you see a sign that warns, Mind Your Step, look past the temporary physical danger and contemplate your spiritual safety. Heaven is forever.

http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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Life is About Weight

Life is about weight.

A few nights ago, I crossed my arms across my shoulders before going to sleep and realized that my shoulders were thicker than before. Frantically, I began clasping other body parts. They were all thicker! I still wore the same clothing size, but the clothes were tight. I had gone from the clothes wearing me to me wearing the clothes.

The frightening thing about the weight gain is that I can’t put a date to it. I know our dog’s birthday. I know family members birthdays, our country’s birthday, the date of my marriage, the date of my last move – I even know the time of year when the swallows arrive and leave. I don’t know when I started putting on weight.

Weight is insidious and stealthy. It sneaks and creeps up on victims and overtakes them by utilizing the element of surprise.

Jesus knew about weight. Paul knew about weight. Paul said, “Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us. (Hebrews 12:1)

Jesus said, “Judge not, that you be not judged. For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you.” (Matthew 7:1) Jesus knew that the weight of sin can sneak up on anyone.

When God wrote the Bible for us, He wanted to be sure we knew about weight – how sneaky, dangerous, and life-threatening it is. Like sin. No alcoholic ever said, “I want to become an alcoholic.” No druggie ever said, “I want to be a druggie.” No ill person ever said, “I want to get sexually transmitted diseases.” No married couple ever said, “We got married just so we could get divorced.” No abusive parent ever said, “I wanted to have kids so I could release anger by beating them up.” Sin, like weight, takes on a life of its own and grows proportionately to how much we feed it.

The secret to living a joyful, productive and contented life in this world and celebrating eternity in the next world is staying slim. Outrun, outsmart, outdistance sin. Read the Bible, pray, invite Jesus into your heart, listen to His Holy Spirit when He speaks. Jesus won the victory over death and the grave. He gives us the power to win the victory over the weight of sin. “The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” I Corinthians 15:56&57.

Both spiritual and physical health are vital to live well in this world.

I can’t put a date to when the weight arrived…but today is the right date for outrunning, outsmarting and outdistancing it!

http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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Reluctant Runner

I hate running – it’s hard. I run to control my weight, because it makes me feel better, and because I think of things to write when I’m running – but I hate running.

Running for me means being an overcomer every time I head out the door. The broken ankle that never got medical care when I was a child is stiff and doesn’t bend. The hip that was injured in a fall off a ladder is painful and limits my stride. Shops in this part of the U.K. don’t carry my shoe size, so shoes are always either half-a-size too small or half-a-size too big. It is usually cold, windy or raining. For some reason, I am most comfortable running when I carry 2 KG hand-held weights. Running long distances at age 62 in a slightly overweight body is a hindrance itself. I run because I need to run and I run out of respect for my son’s memory. Marine Corps Major Luke Parker lived all 37 years of his life as an overcomer.

Being lazy is more natural for me than overcoming. Math was hard for me in school, so I convinced my seventh grade math teacher that pencil lead inflamed the fungal infection on my fingers and I couldn’t do my homework because I made too many mistakes with a pen. That might have seemed a brilliant ploy at the time, but I paid for it later.

When I was a senior, my high school chemistry teacher informed me that she was signing me out of chemistry so I wouldn’t flunk and miss graduating with my class. I had no idea I was failing her class.

My university economics professor watched me struggle through graphs and formulas and asked what I planned to do when I graduated. I showed him a newspaper with my front page bylines. He asked, “If this is what you want to do and you’re already doing it – why are you taking my class?” I explained that his class was required. He tore up my failed exams and gave me a “B” for the class, explaining that he had never seen anyone try so hard and fail so completely.

Seeing the negative results of math laziness does help get me out the door to run. My greatest inspiration, however, is the memory of my son’s determination to overcome. He had every possible excuse to fail in life: an absent father; a mother on poverty wages who could never afford to buy him all the things his friends’ parents bought them or take him all the places they went; severe ear infections that left him with a speech impediment; hyper-activity before it became a buzz word; a spine that was so badly twisted in two different directions that doctors wanted to install a metal rod; an apparently inherited lack of mathematical ability, and constant moving and changing schools.

Unlike me, Luke didn’t make excuses or allow laziness to determine his future. He took speech therapy, learned to channel his hyperactivity into sports, asked Jesus to heal his back (Jesus did), got tutoring in math, and began running eight miles a day to train for the Marine Corps. He was one of the only Marines in his unit to run a marathon in Iraq with temperatures topping 100-plus degrees. He hated writing but was good at it, so he wrote a newsletter for his unit.

The child who was diagnosed with learning problems learned to rock climb, play a piano, ride and train horses and scuba dive. Between deployments, Luke took flying lessons, bought an airplane, got an instructor and instrument panel rating, and flew in air shows, performing stunts and writing with smoke. He also continued running marathons.

His most important life accomplishments were walking with God and being a loving husband to his wife, Delight, and an adoring father to his daughter, Dulcinea.

So I run. I know Luke is in Heaven. I don’t know if he can look down and see me, but if he can – I want him to see a mother honoring his memory as an overcomer by becoming one herself. And running helps me write books like Bridge Beyond Betrayal (Sunpenny Publishing Group July 25th release), which is dedicated to Luke and includes a prophetic poem he wrote a year before his fatal airplane crash.

I’m not fast, I’ll probably never run a marathon, I’ll probably always hate running. But I love my son.

http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

 

Rocks, Roses & Sea Breezes

It was hard when I first arrived in Scotland from Texas, USA. Even though it was “summer,” it was 25 degrees cooler and I went from wearing shorts and sleeveless shirts to wrapping up in three layers of clothes, a coat and a wooly hat.

Cars drove on the wrong side of the road. There were roundabouts – paved circles with no stop signs or traffic lights. Cars spin in and out of roundabouts without stopping and drivers use right turn signals – even though vehicles turn left entering a roundabout. Many roads are poorly marked or not marked at all. Signs are in both Gaelic and English, with the Gaelic on top. Since the lettering is small, it’s nearly impossible to read it.

Meals are called “tea,” so when you are invited over for tea, you don’t know if you’re joining friends for a cup of hot tea (which I don’t drink anyway), or a meal. Cookies are called biscuits and biscuits are scones. Toilet paper is “loo roll” and dish soap is “washing up liquid.” Sidewalks are called pavement. While waiting for a bus, the driver shouted at me, “Get on the pavement.” I was confused because I was standing on the pavement.

Favorite is spelled favourite, color is colour, program is programme, and long lines are called queues. Oh – and dog owners don’t like to have their dogs called “pups” unless they are actually puppies.

Church services are strictly timed to finish within an hour. Songs are usually accompanied by slow, ponderous organ music. Following human traditions is more important than following the leading of the Holy Spirit.

There are virtually no convenience stores and long trips are miserable because of the lack of public restrooms. Once, out of sheer desperation, I hunkered down in the back of a store that hadn’t opened yet, squatting between wire racks. Existing restrooms usually have thick-walled stalls from the floor to the ceiling with such painted-over metal hardware that I never lock the door because when I do – I either cut my fingers or am afraid I won’t be able to unlock it again.

When you order Italian food like lasagna in the U.S., you get hot bread, a salad, the main course, and refills of iced tea or soft drinks. In Scotland…you get lasagna. No refills on drinks.

Words like schedule, proven, resume and laboratory are pronounced differently. Words like garage and aluminum are pronounced so differently that I didn’t know what they were at first.

God brought me to Scotland. He’s helped me bloom. I still say “y’all,” and haven’t said “aye” yet, but I actually invited someone to have “tea” with us – meaning a meal! The hardness and trials have translated into blessings. We live where everything that is green blooms, and everything is green because of the surplus of rain. In any direction one looks, there is no blight, no ugliness. The people are warm, friendly, generous and independent. They remind me of Texas folks.

And my second Miz Mike mystery-romance-suspense is about to be released by Sunpenny Publishing Group, here in the UK. God has transformed hardness and confusion into rose petals and sea breezes.

It is possible to bloom amid rocks and hardness. Trust God to turn the hard circumstances in your life into garden spots.

http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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Dare to be a…Dandelion?

William Wordsworth wrote:

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o’er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host of golden daffodils…

Why daffodils? Why not dandelions? They are both yellow. They are both cheerful. They both start with the letter D. So what’s wrong with dandelions…except, of course, that in this case – it wouldn’t rhyme.

Even though dandelions have medicinal uses and are harvested for food, they are listed as a noxious weed in many jurisdictions. My neighbors hate them and cast disparaging looks at our yard when the cheerful yellow blooms pop up and wave at them in a friendly manner.

Multiple internet sites offer advice on how to kill or get rid of dandelions. They are considered a nuisance in residential and recreational lawns and in agriculture. They get blamed for economic damage because they infest crops worldwide.

Pilgrims brought dandelions to New England from Europe in the 1600s, and planted them for health benefits which included curing scurvy, a condition caused by a lack of vitamin C. Because dandelions are hardy, they survived. Because they are aggressive, spread easily, grow anywhere, and are highly visible – the once revered flowers are now hated.

Children love dandelions. What magical fun to blow on a dandelion and watch white fluff somersault through the air on wind currents – tiny circus performers catching a moment of freedom and life in celebration. I still love blowing on dandelions. (I don’t do it when the neighbors are watching!)

Fortrose, Scotland, threw off winter gloom and followed a bright parade of golden daffodils this spring. Except the ones captured by cameras and memories, they are gone now. Now, the land has rolled out folds of green and gold tartan as dandelions march staunchly into the battle for continued survival.

Christians need to be like dandelions – not daffodils. We should be aggressive on the side of right. We should spread the Good News about Jesus’ love and eternal life everywhere we go. We should bloom where God plants us. We should be hardy, even when we are met by ridicule. We should catch the breath of the Holy Spirit and celebrate Jesus as freely and joyfully as dandelion fluff in a whirlwind.

Instead of daring to be a Daniel, like the children’s Bible song, we should dare to be a dandelion.

I think I just encouraged myself to go out and blow on some dandelions in front of my neighbors. I may or may not be back…

http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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Living for Rainbows & Glitter

Living for Rainbows & Glitter
Some people spend their lives chasing rainbows and glitter. Mundane and ordinary won’t answer.
Expensive exotic vacations; expensive designer clothes; expensive luxury cars; expensive homes and mansions – things dominate and enslave those who would waltz with rainbows and sprinkle glitter on stars. Rainbow chasers forget that rainbows appear with storm clouds and disappear with the sun.
Rainbows cannot survive in peace and sunshine, nor can glitter outshine a star. Were we to live our lives as a candle in a sun brightened room, no one would ever see our glow. If your life is mixed storm and sun, count yourself blessed. Joy is not in rainbows and glitter, but rather in the light we can shine into a sin-darkened world.
The same chapter in the Bible, Romans 8, that promises that “All things work together for good to those who love the Lord,” also promises that if “we suffer with Jesus, we will also be glorified with Him.”
Riches are fine, rainbows are fine, glitter is fine, but contrast is what gives life meaning.

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