I Didn’t Want to Run Today

I didn’t want to run today. I never do. It’s hard.

Weight control and general physical wellness benefit from running – so I run. Today was no exception; I didn’t want to run. Blessings followed obedience.

First, I met an 88-year-old neighbor who had suffered a stroke. Immediately following the stroke, he wobbled when he walked. Post-stroke challenges were hard. Determined to recover, he set up his own physical therapy regimen – golf. Now he strides along with confidence. Using partly speech and partly sign language, he informed me today that he and his 87-year-old friend play 18 holes four days a week. It was cold and blustery today – but he looked as brightly happy as a spring daffodil.

Then I met a stranger pushing her dad along in his wheelchair and taking their dog on a walk. We stopped and exchanged greetings. As I ran on down the road I reflected on how good and kind people can be. The news is full of bad-sad stories including the threat of war in the Ukraine, child and homeless abuse; alcohol and drug addiction; crooked politics, and violent crimes. Yet, because God’s Spirit is stronger on behalf of good than satan’s is on evil, people reflect God’s mercy and grace.

My most inspirational running discovery was The Trees. Surely had The Trees been given a choice of where they wanted to be planted, they would not have chosen the rocky soil on the side of Moray Firth that is buffeted nonstop by wind and gales. Because the wind has rocked them over the years, The Trees have sent their roots down into the soil so deeply that they can absorb water and nutrients. Needles on The Trees are glossy green with vibrant health. The trunks are solid, twisted into artistic compositions that shout victory over hardship. The Trees have endured hardships.

Hardships are often God’s blessings in disguise. Psalm 119:67 says, “Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I keep your word.”

Some people think I’ve had a had a hard life: sexually abused as a child; nearly dying from two forced non-medically supervised abortions as a teen; running away from home and living under a bridge to escape abuse; being a single-parent and working two to three jobs at the same time; losing a husband to cancer; having my home and property stolen; and most heartbreaking – losing my awesome son, 37, in a plane crash. Yet God has used those trials to shake my roots – like The Trees – and grow me into His pattern, able to face the gales unafraid because I know God is in Control.

Childhood fears and memories inspired my newest Christian mystery-romance-suspense, Fear of Shadows. Sexual abuse and forced abortions inspired pro-life adventure-romance Love’s Beating Heart, which readers have called “inspirational” and “life-changing.”

Between now and March 8, Smashwords is offering both Fear of Shadows and Love’s Beating Heart – FREE.

No one owns a monopoly on hardship. Life is challenging. When hardship knocks, remember that trials are often God’s blessings in disguise – and open the door.

Love’s Beating Heart: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/307104

Fear of Shadows: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/387341

Old Hat

Besides precious memories, too few pictures, and a much-read and much-used Bible, all I had left of son USMC Major Luke Gaines Parker was the old hat. Now the hat is gone.

It was ironic to still have Luke’s hat after he departed for Heaven at age 37. A hat should not last longer than the person wearing it – especially an old hat.

I bought the bright blue wooly hat for Luke in the Great Basin Desert of Northern Nevada when he was eleven. He left it behind when he reported to the Marine Corps for basic training.

Because it had been Luke’s hat, I kept it and wore it on cold, windy days – even though since it was a child’s hat, it was too small for me and kept popping off my head. Over the years, the hat became tolerant of me and relaxed enough to remain on my head. After I moved to Scotland, I wore the old hat nearly every day of the year – spring, “summer,” fall, and winter. Even in the height of “summer” it is still cool – often with a strong wind. The hat kept my hair from blowing across my face and getting tangled.

Now the hat is gone. It vanished. I wish I could believe that Luke reached down from Heaven and reclaimed the hat as a sort of sign. He didn’t. Heaven is a perfect place with a perfect climate. Luke would have no need for his old blue hat. When a person dies, their spirit goes immediately to be with Jesus in Heaven – if they belong to Him. Jesus is alive, Luke is alive – but he didn’t come for the hat.

I spent several days retracing walks and runs to look for the missing hat. Folks here in the Black Isle are honest and thoughtful. When they find someone’s property, they hang it on a fence post for the owner to find: shoes, socks, keys, dog whistles, shirts, hats, dog leashes. No bright blue wooly hat.

Perhaps the hat fell out of my pocket on the rocks and washed into the sea. Perhaps it blew out of my pocket when I was running and someone who needed a winter hat took it. Actually, I’m glad that it vanished because it taught me to look into my heart for what’s left that’s really important.

Everywhere I go, I see Luke’s smile. I remember the times he called me to sing a song he had just written. I still have cards and poems he sent me. When I look at his daughter’s face, I see his eyes and the bridge of his nose. He lives on in precious memories, and in the life of his daughter. These things are important. The old blue hat? Well, it was just a hat.

Every physical possession we have on this earth, no matter how valuable, will eventually wear out, get stolen, get lost, or disappear. Even the ones that we keep until we “die” will get left behind, just like Luke’s old hat when he went into basic training. No one leaves this earth for Heaven with a suitcase.

Value your children, friends, family members, pets – everyone and everything that you love – now. Spend all the time with them you can and lavish all the love on them that you have to give. You can’t spoil anyone with too much love – but you can break their hearts with too little love.

Build memories and hang on to them. Let old hats go.

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

What my Date with Willie Nelson Taught me about Writing

Before Willie Nelson became a household word, he worked as a wrangler at Lost Valley Dude Ranch, in Bandera, Texas, “Cowboy Capital of the World.”

Just out of high school and two years of college, I fell in love with Willie Nelson – at least with his songs. As a writer myself, the simple brilliance of his words resonated with me: Pretend I never happened, Erase me from your mind, You will not want to remember, Any love as cold as mine.

Not knowing it, I broke one of the first rules of writing: write about what you know. I was a 20-year-old kid. I didn’t know anything about anything, so if I wrote anything at all – it had to be about something I didn’t know anything about. My first full-length adult novel (thankfully still unpublished) featured a country-western singer as the protagonist. Not that I knew he was called a protagonist.

Willie Nelson wasn’t my only interview. Local celebrity and bar owner Arkey Blue, of Arkey Blue’s Silver Dollar in Bandera, was kind enough to give me an interview. I’m sure I asked stupid questions. He patiently answered them without telling me how stupid the questions were.

When he was performing at Floore’s Country Store in Helotes, Willie Nelson gave me his phone number. For weeks, I called fruitlessly. Being a Texan, I never gave up. Finally, Willie answered and invited me on a date for an interview.

Willie was married to his third wife, but I was young and stupid – and not a Christian. I wanted to be a famous writer, and I wanted to do it the easy way. Willie Nelson was the ticket. He would fall in love with me, divorce Connie, marry me, promote my books – and I would soon be interviewed by Johnny Carson on The Tonight Show.

When Willie picked me up for the Menudo Festival in San Antonio, he was drunk. I didn’t realize how drunk he was until we hit the winding Texas Hill Country road to San Antonio in the middle or on the wrong side of the road. Fortunately we arrived safely, and I clutched a notebook with answers to my questions. Willie said that when he grew long hair, men with traditional haircuts hated him. When he cut his hair – the “longhairs” hated him even more. I asked, “Are you really as sad as the words to your songs make you sound?”

Willie looked at me with humor glinting from the depths of deeply brown eyes and said, “I don’t think anyone can be that sad. Do you?”

On the way back, Willie asked if I minded if he smoked marijuana. I said, “Yes.” He pulled the car off the road and tried to kiss me. I was shocked. In my dreams, we took long walks, talked, spent more and more time together until he proposed. Even young and inexperienced, I realized the sexual advance was fueled by lust, not love, and would be meaningless and demeaning. When I resisted, he was surprised. “You mean you really are writing a book?”

A few months later, I saw Willie at a restaurant. He was staring at me, so I said, “You probably don’t remember me…” He replied, “Sure I do. You’re the girl who really is writing a book.”

That date with Willie Nelson taught me more about writing than any writing course or writing book I’ve ever read.

Write about what you know. Make characters real. Don’t put them on a pedestal because no one – not even famous people like Willie Nelson – is perfect. Your characters need flaws as well as strengths. Persevere. Never give up. Don’t look for the easy way or try to ride someone else’s fame. Even if that works, it will only be temporary, and you will realize that you cheated. That will rob your sense of fulfillment.

As a Christian, let God write the script. Even if Willie had married me and pushed my writing to success, my life would have been all wrong. He is now 80, living with wife number four. He’s a liberal; I’m a conservative. He drinks. I hate alcohol. He’s an activist for marijuana; I hate drugs. God has His own plan and purpose for Willie Nelson and I am not part of that pattern.

Most of all, if my dream wedding to Willie Nelson had taken place, it would have denied me the joy of raising my wonderful son, Luke, who walked with God his entire life.

Instead, God has blessed me with author husband Alan T McKean (The Scent of Time, The Scent of Home, and the soon-to-be-released The Scent of Eternity). We live in the extraordinary Black Isle of Scotland with such vast and varied scenic beauty that one can look in any direction and never see blight.

It’s taken me 40 years and 150 rejection slips to do it the right way and the hard way, but I am now author of five Christian mystery-romance-suspense books, and one young adult pro-life adventure-romance.

Most importantly, I can stand before God and instead of echoing Frank Sinatra’s song, I did it my way, I can say to my Heavenly Father, “I did it Your way.”

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

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Why I Chose Child Abuse over Abortion

I didn’t say to someone when I was in my mother’s womb, “I know if I’m born I’ll get abused – I choose abuse over abortion.” I didn’t say that because unborn children can’t speak for themselves.

Had I known every heartbreak in my life before I was born, I would still have chosen life over abortion.

Let’s pretend a moderator had interviewed me in the womb.

Moderator: “If you are born, you will face years of sexual abuse from your father. He will start raping you when you are eleven. He will get you pregnant twice, then heat up your mother’s knitting needles and perform two backwoods, medically unsupervised abortions to hide his crime. You will nearly die both times and it will take you weeks to recover. You will miss a lot of school and fail math. He will beat you up, stomp on you, throw things at you and threaten to kill you if you tell anyone. You can avoid all that by being aborted now.”

Me: “There will be some good days and good times. I want to live.”

Moderator: “It won’t be easy even when you escape abuse. You’ll be homeless with no money. You will live under a bridge in the back of a truck. Even on the coldest days of winter, you will wash yourself and your clothes in the river. You will be miserable.”

Me: “I will find ways to cope and become a stronger person because of hardship. I want to live.”

Moderator: “You will have a son. You will spend more than seven years as a single parent, working two and three jobs to make ends meet. One time you’ll be so tired after working all night, getting your son off to school, then going back to work at 11:30 a.m., that you drive your truck to a shopping center parking lot, let your son go visit the toy shop, lock the doors and sleep in the cab in freezing weather. You hate being cold.”

Me: “I want to live.”

Moderator: “You will be heartbroken because your son is chronically ill and doctors don’t know what’s wrong. Seeking medical help, you will drive over Donner Summit in the winter in a truck with no defroster. As you drive over the mountain, you will be constantly scraping ice off the outside, then the inside of the windshield so you can see. The truck will break down and you will be two years without your own transportation.”

Me: “I will love my son. I want to live.”

Moderator: “You will want to be a writer. You will spend 40 years sending out manuscripts and getting rejections back. Working two and three jobs at a time, you won’t have opportunity to research the market. Many times, you won’t have enough money for postage to send out your books. You will get so frustrated that you feel like slamming your head against a concrete wall.”

Me: “I want to live.”

Moderator: “More tragedies. All on the same day, your mother dies and you can’t plan to attend her funeral because your husband is sent home from the hospital to die; your sheepdog dies, and your truck catches on fire in downtown San Antonio.”

Me: “I want to live.”

Moderator: “You will get scammed out of your property by a drug-addicted con, and a pastor you trusted. You will live in an open-ended garden center with no indoor plumbing and no kitchen or bathroom facilities. You will take cold water showers with the garden hose. In the winter, you will put up hay bales and wrap up your little living area in plastic to keep out the cold – it’s all you can afford. Wildlife will share the garden center with you – even wasps and scorpions. You will eat one meal a day and survive on granola bars the rest of the time. The legal system will fail you, and you will be broke and homeless again.”

Me: “I want to live. I might be broke, I might be homeless – but I will never be poor.”

Because I lived, I taught in Christian schools in two different states and remain in contact with some of my former students who claim I had a positive influence in their lives.

Because I lived, I worked on newspapers in three different states, writing stories that uplifted and helped others.

Because I lived, I was honored by God with the most awesomely wonderful son any mother could ever have, the late Marine Corps Major Luke Gaines Parker. Even after his Nov. 17, 2013 plane crash, Luke continues to bless others with the writing, memories, and Christian example he left behind. Because Luke lived, he leaves behind daughter Dulcinea, who makes the world a better place. All that was possible because – first of all – I lived.

Because I lived, I am now married to a marvelous husband, Reverend Alan T McKean, the author of time travel-adventure books The Scent of Time, The Scent of Home and the soon-to-be-released The Scent of Eternity. Because I lived, we live in the lovely Black Isle of Scotland, working together in his ministry.

Because I was abused, not aborted, I have written six “inspirational,” “life-changing” books, which include the pro-life adventure-romance, Love’s Beating Heart – a book which readers say helped them choose life and adoption for their unborn instead of abortion.

Child abuse is unforgivable. It should never happen. Abortion is ultimate child abuse – it tortures the child, then murders him or her.

What about you? Life hasn’t been easy. Would you have chosen abortion over life?

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

Most Costly Valentines’ Day Card Ever Printed

The most costly Valentines’ Day card ever printed was printed in blood from the nail wounds in Jesus’ hands and feet. Nails didn’t hold Jesus to the cross – love did.

In pro-life adventure-romance Love’s Beating Heart, Dena’s Hispanic step-grandparents have just learned that their granddaughter ran away from home to protect her pregnant best friend Natasha from her parents’ demands that she get an abortion:

Julia nodded her head wisely. “Yes, it is just, m’ija. Just that you loved this young

man. You both thought you were old enough for adult love. You did not understand. Real

love, it means the wait for marriage.” She shook her head. “Not to worry, m’ija, Jesus

forgives you. You must forgive yourself. The baby inside you is because you loved too

much and too young. Yet, you have been wise. You make the right choice for Baby. God

will bless you for that. The unborn have no voice. They have no choice over what

happens to them. But you, m’ija. You have become the voice of your child. Of this, God

is joyful.”

Tears bubbled up in Nathasha’s eyes and dripped heavy crystals down her

freckled cheeks. She whispered, “I don’t want anyone else to know! I’m too

ashamed. I just want to die!”

“M’ija,” Julia said gently, “to die you cannot do. Baby would die. You have made

a mistake and you are sorry. Jesus forgives. Since He has forgiven you, why do you not

forgive yourself? You think perhaps that you are bigger and better than God and have

sinned such a great sin that Jesus is not big enough or good enough to forgive?”

Tasha hid her face on Dena’s shoulder while Julia explained the girl’s plight to

Eino. He nodded thoughtfully at Natasha, “Julia is right. Listen to her, m’ija. She is very

wise, my wife, my viejita. What she says is right. You gave the boy you loved the gift of

your love. You were too young to understand the cost.

“You say you are ashamed. But our Jesus is greater than our shame. He has

forgiven. But to forgive yourself, that must you decide. To wrap the guilt around you and

hang on to it is to tell Jesus He is not strong enough, or good enough to forgive you. It is

like to tell Jesus that it did no good to die on the cross for you. And, now, you do the right

thing. Protecting this little one. This I very much believe.

“You loved too young and too fully. Our Jesus, He did not die for the

right we do. He died for the wrong. Now, m’ija, “if you won’t forgive yourself, what

more can Jesus do? Already, He has died for you. He has nothing left to give. To die

again, He cannot do. You must decide to forgive yourself. Listen to Grandma, my vieja.”

Like Natasha, we must choose whether to accept the Valentines’ card Jesus wrote with His blood, or to reject it. Nothing in our past is too big for Jesus to forgive.

I wrote Love’s Beating Heart to keep other women from making an irreversible decision – to get an abortion – that has the power to torment them with guilt for the rest of their lives. I know. As a teen who was repeatedly raped, I was forced to have two non-medically supervised backwoods abortions that nearly killed me. Daily, I live with the knowledge that two children that would have been born to me were murdered.

If you know someone facing a pregnancy decision, gift them with a copy of Love’s Beating Heart. Next to the Valentines’ Day card that Jesus wrote with his blood, Love’s Beating Heart may be one of the best love gifts they ever receive.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/307104

http://www.amazon.com/Loves-Beating-Heart-ebook/dp/B00CGNPG9O/ref=sr_1_1_title_0_main?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1378320298&sr=1-1&keywords=love%27s+beating+heart

What Puzzles a Monkey?

Stately Chilean Pines hide away in the Scottish Highlands not far from where we live. They are also called “Monkey Puzzle Trees.”

Monkey Puzzle Trees were brought to the UK as ornamental trees in 1850. Seeing one of the intriguing trees for the first time, a person purportedly said, “It would puzzle a monkey to climb that.”

With twisted, interlocking branches and broad, sharp needles, it might indeed prove difficult and puzzling to climb one of the trees.

Monkey Puzzle trees mainly serve as distinctive focal points for gardens. They have edible seeds, but it takes up to 40 years for the trees to produce seeds. While they are labeled “hardy,” Chilean pines can not tolerate exposure to pollution.

Monkey Trees share parallels with Christian life. Consider a popular cliché, “God works in mysterious ways.” When bad things happen in the world and when bad things happen to good people, even Christians are puzzled. We are often asked by a disbelieving world to elucidate the inexplicable. Jesus told his disciples, “To you it has been given to know the mystery of the kingdom of God.” (Mark 4:11) That mystery, according to 1 Timothy 3:16, is “the mystery of godliness: God was manifested in the flesh, Justified in the Spirit, Seen by angels, Preached among unbelievers, Believed on in the world, Received up to glory.”

While we understand that Jesus left Heaven and lived on this earth as both man and God so He could die for our sins and be raised from the dead victorious over sin and death, it still puzzles us when bad things happen to good people. Perhaps the best answer is found in a poem written by an anonymous author:

Not until the loom is silent

And the shuttles cease to fly

Will God unroll the pattern

And explain the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful

In the Master’s skilled hand

As the gold and silver

In the pattern which He planned.

Without pain and sorrow, would we appreciate joy? Without hardship, would we enjoy comfort and success? Without the shadow of death casting itself over our lives, would we live each day to the fullest? Would a lack of opposites turn us into apathetical, ungrateful people? That’s a puzzle. God holds the connecting pieces.

Like Monkey Puzzle trees, Christians should produce seeds in our lives: love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Just as it takes years for Monkey Puzzle trees to produce seeds, it takes time for believers to produce Christian fruit.

Like Monkey Puzzle trees, we should be hardy. We are instructed to “endure hardship as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.” (2 Timothy 2:3)

Finally, we should be as sensitive to soul pollution as a Monkey Puzzle Tree is to environmental pollution. We must guard what we see and hear. Philippians 4:7 instructs, “Whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy – meditate on these things.”

A Monkey Puzzle tree might puzzle a climbing monkey, but as Christians – we should not allow unforeseen and unexpected tragedies and trials to puzzle us. We may not be wise enough to know the answers to all lives puzzles, but we know Jesus. He holds the connecting pieces.

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

Look at me, Mom!

Our rough collie, Angel Joy, reminds me of a child. When we meet other dogs along the beach, she wants to show off. When she makes an especially good leap and catch, she holds the ball in her mouth and looks around to see if anyone observed her brilliance. She covets praise.

It reminds me of my son Luke when he was a child. “Mom, look!” Every parent can relate to that. “Mom, did you see that?” “Mom, guess what I did today!”

There were times when I wanted to be left alone to read a good book or do almost anything else than watch the same antics over and over, “Mom, did you see that! Look, Mom! Watch what I can do!”

Yet, as a parent – especially a single parent – I knew how important it was to give my son undivided attention even when he was acting immature and silly and I had other things to do than provide a loving, encouraging audience. How thankful I am now that I usually managed to pretend great interest in his endless somersaults, jumps off high objects, and riding a sky line down from a tree to the ground – over and over and over.

Luke graduated from earth to heaven at age 37, and I will never again have the chance to watch him, encourage him, praise him. He’s lost to me in this life.

Before Luke’s death, it was the same thing during phone calls – but it was Luke praising his daughter. “Mom, she’s so smart. I’m so proud of this girl.” “Let me tell you what she did today!” “She’s an angel!” She’s so smart and beautiful and brave.” “She can rock climb better than me.” “Let me tell you, that girl is just awesome and amazing!”

Dulcinea was only ten when she lost her daddy, but she can hold tightly to the memories of her father’s love for her and praise of her. Never did Luke speak one critical, angry or disparaging word about his daughter – my granddaughter. Dulcinea will never have to question whether or not her daddy loved her and was proud of her. She knows.

I challenge parents to watch your children at every opportunity – even if they are performing the same monotonous “trick” over and over to what seems like infinity. It isn’t. Your investment of time in your children will never leave you with regrets when God repossesses His loan. Children are gifts from God and they are only on loan to their parents.

Children are the only thing we have on this earth that will join us in Heaven. Give them what they need more than money, toys, or electronics – your time and love.

Luke Gaines Parker, Aug. 19, 1976 – Nov. 17, 2013, with daughter Dulcinea

Books by Stephanie Parker McKean:

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

Gateposts

Here in Scotland, a rock mansion was built in 1790, complete with ornate stone gateposts.

After he inherited it, owner James Douglas Fletcher spent an enormous amount of his wealth creating “a mansion to supersede all others.” Rosehaugh premiered as an elaborate four-square, three-story, 60-room showplace of unbelievable opulence, built with the finest construction materials, and filled with valuable furnishings from around the world. The mansion to supersede all others was completed in 1893. A mere 66 years later, the mansion was demolished. Today, 121 years later, all that remains of Rosehaugh are two ornate stone gateposts leading to nowhere.

That’s a good warning to us. We build our lives every day. Are we building something permanent that will remain when we leave this earth, or are we building grand and eloquent gateposts to nothing?

It is not wrong for Christians to have and to spend money. The Bible encourages us to work. It promises that in all labor there is profit. It tells us to work with all our might. It affirms the right of Christians to get paid for working. “He who plows should plow in hope, and he who threshes in hope should be partaker of his hope…the Lord has commanded that those who preach the gospel should live from the gospel.” (1 Cor. 9:10-14)

If we work and are rewarded financially with a good income, we should have the freedom to spend what is left after God’s tithe on whatever will benefit us in this life so we can continue to be productive. But how wide is the gap between what we really need and what we build? Are we building to impress others, or building gateposts in Heaven?

Once I lived under a bridge in the back of a pickup truck, painting signs for meals and washing myself and my clothes in the river – even on the coldest days of winter. I had little, but I had everything I needed.

Once I lived in an open-ended garden center. I had no bathroom facilities, no kitchen facilities, no air conditioning in the 100-plus degree summers and very little heat on the 16-degree winter days. I took showers with the cold water in the garden hose and slept on a lawn chair mattress on top of three wooden planks. Toads, birds, a wild cat, and other critters came in and out to visit. I had everything I needed. I had Jesus.

I’ve been without things that most people view as necessities, but I’ve never been poor.

“The blessing of the LORD, it makes rich.” Proverbs 10:22.

Jesus encouraged, “lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:20, 21)

As commanding as it was in its time, Rosehaugh is gone. Two stone gateposts stand as reminders that not even an enormous amount of wealth spent on things in this world can secure them or make them permanent.

Jesus is the only foundation for eternal life. Living for Him is just as possible under a bridge or in a derelict half-shell of a building as it is in a palace or grandiose showplace like Rosehaugh.

Jesus was born in a stable. His first visitors were poor shepherds, hated and despised by the wealthy. We have a God that cannot be bought or sold for money; One Who only accepts the freewill offering of our hearts.

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

Death, Dying and Shadows

Having just said goodbye to my 37-year-old son, U.S. Marine Corps Major Luke Gaines Parker, (Aug. 19, 1976 – Nov. 17, 2013), I feel qualified to write about death, dying and shadows. Death because a memorial service was held for Luke; shadows because they are illusions.

Luke was born hyperactive before it became a buzz word and was diagnosed with learning disabilities, all of which he overcame. When Luke wanted to learn something, he did. He learned to whitewater raft, rock climb, scuba dive, play a trumpet and piano, fly an airplane. When he wanted his own plane, he found and purchased one of 19 remaining Focke Wulfs in the world. He worked his way up from learner, to instructor, to an instrument rating. He performed aerobatic maneuvers at air shows and wrote smoke messages in the sky.

As a Marine, Luke worked his way up from enlisted to Major. He served six tours of duty in war zones – saw many of his Marine Corps buddies die – and returned home from Iraq with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, which he overcame. But this isn’t about Luke – it’s about shadows.

Shadows are illusions. Shadows aren’t real. They can’t hurt you. People can make shadow animals on the wall – even sharks and wolves – but the shadow critters are harmless. They can’t bite.

Death is unpopular. It gets bad PR. People think of death as an end. It’s scary. They see death as the worst thing that can happen. Death is not the end of life; it’s the beginning of eternal life. Death is what we label the passage from this earth into Heaven where there is no more death, dying, sorrow, illness, pain or sorrow. Death stands between this restless world and eternal joy.

Death is not the worst thing that can happen. Today at a nursing home, I saw the worst; lonely people with no one to visit them or care; people whose bodies and minds have worn out ahead of death’s arrival. Some screamed and cried for help because imaginary fiends – real to them – bit and crawled under their clothing. Some slumped over in their chairs, lacking strength to straighten up. Some sat, head lolling, drooling, useless arms ending in claw-like appendages that had once been functional hands.

Death is not the worst thing that can happen. Today at a prison, I saw hopelessness in eyes once bright with wonder; human bodies held captive in cold metal cages, trapped in a dreamless land of no hope, no future.

Death is not the worst thing that can happen. Today I saw a drug addict with bleeding gums and pussy sores on his face sitting in the cold rain, shivering, and talking to invisible companions as he held a paper cup and begged for money for his next fix.

Death is not the worst thing that can happen. Today I saw an alcoholic mother in an uncontrollable spate of weeping because her young daughter had run away from home and she had sobered up enough to realize that it was her neglect and abuse that sent the young girl rushing out into a dangerous, uncertain future.

Death is not the worst thing that can happen. Today I saw an abused child with cigarette burns and bruises on his thin arms and face and shattered trust written across his face because the parents who should have loved and protected him had turned on him with anger and hate.

Death is not the worst thing that can happen. Jesus asked, “What does it profit a person to gain the whole world and lose his soul?” If this life is all there is to life – then death is indeed an enemy and the worst thing that can happen.

Luke lived his 37 years to the fullest because he walked with God. Even when other people around him did, Luke never drank alcohol or used profanity. He attended church, read his Bible, and was a great father to his young daughter. Within three days of his death, I received 850 messages expressing sorrow and commending his life – because it was a life lived with God. He flew his beloved Focke Wulf through the shadow of death into the arms of Jesus.

Do I miss my son? Dreadfully. Am I incapacitated by grief? No. Death is a shadow. Shadows are harmless, powerless illusions. Death doesn’t deserve such a bum rap. There are many things in this life worse than death.

Link to six Christian mystery-romance-suspense novels: http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

God in a Box

I dreamed that people came to me with problems. They told me what their problem was. I went into a room, scanned the neatly labeled boxes on the shelves, and selected a box that would solve their problems.

Out of curiosity, I opened one of the boxes labeled “impending divorce.” I was impressed that it contained the perfect solution to the problem and could stop divorce. During a lull in customers, I opened up several other boxes. Each one was a perfect solution for the problem it was intended to solve.

After waking up, the dream puzzled me at first. I recognized that it was God solving the problems. That’s why each solution was perfect. Only, we can’t put God in a box. He won’t fit! He created the entire universe and all that is in it. The Bible says that even the “heaven of heavens” cannot contain God.

Then I realized that the boxes in the dream were Bible verses, each one designed to perfectly solve whatever problems life hurls at us. The Bible is a living book. It is designed to solve every problem we have today – more than 2,000 years after it was written. God’s wisdom never fails.

God is too good to be cruel, too wise to make mistakes.

When life gets tough and you feel like wave-mangled seaweed snatched from the soft ocean floor and flung heedlessly against the rocks along the shore, read the Bible. Jesus calmed the wind, stopped storms, and walked on water. He will take care of you.

It’s all in the book!

Speaking of books, here is a link to all six of my Christian mystery-romance-suspense books. See if they solve your reading needs!

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