Paradigm Shift

Hopefully, one or two of you may have noticed that I have dropped off the face of the planet for more than a week.  For my excuse, I offer the fact that our lives here have been turned inside out and upside down, and it's taken a bit of time to get back on an even keel.

Those of my generation will recall the oh-so-not-politically correct punching clowns we grew up with.  For the rest of you, with a rounded, weighted bottom, these plastic inflatable clowns with squeakers in their noses rocked back when struck but would bob right back up again.  Unless, of course, it got jumped on, used as a Hoppity-Hop, and/or assaulted to uninflatable nonresponsiveness.

That's us, Dallas and me.  We haven't had the pudding knocked out of us yet.  We still bounce back, sooner or later.  Even when struck with such force we fall back clear to the floor (my brothers' favorite trick), give us some time and we're on our feet again.

But, this post isn't about Dallas and I—not really.  It's about how, over the course of a month, we came to grow from two empty-nesters rattling around an empty house, seriously considering downsizing, to a family of seven, bursting at the seams.

Book Review: The Reckoning by Tanya Parker Mills

Book:  The Reckoning
Author:  Tanya Parker Mills
Pages:  384
Format:  Paperback, Kindle/ebook
Publisher:  Book Surge Publishing
Book Source:  Provided by Author
Category:  Historical Fiction, Suspense/Thriller
Style:  Compelling, intense scenes of violence/torture

Synopsis from GoodReads:

. . . Through gritty, gut wrenching prose Mills’s heroic and courageous storytelling exposes the horrors of dictatorship and the mindless cruelty that flows from political repression. It also sends a message of hope, inspiration, and faith in the human heart. Mills’s The Reckoning masterfully weaves the real horrors of Saddam Hussein’s Iraq with the rich threads of a compelling fictional narrative as raw and real as anything taken from today’s political headlines.  . . .more

My Take:

Okay.  The synopsis gives a wonderful idea of what this book is about, but not the plot.  So, here goes: beginning in the summer of 2002, our heroine, Theresa, a freelance journalist after a story, illegally crosses out of Kurdish-controlled northern Iraq and is spotted by the Islamist fundamentalist group, the Ansari, which leads to her apprehension by the Iraqi army.  With her are arrested her cameraman, Peter (who is in love with her), and her three Kurdish guides (a father and two sons).

Just a few months before the US invasion, Saddam Hussein and George W. Bush are rattling sabers at one another.  The atmosphere in totalitarian Iraq is one of fear and suspicion.  Terror reigns.  In the book, we follow Theresa, Peter, Jalal, Massoud, and Barham as they endure isolation, starvation, torture and a number of other horrors in the hands of the Mukhabarat, the Iraqi secret police.  When Theresa's history of living in Iraq as a child comes to light, her situation becomes nearly hopeless.

First let me say that this book is the perfect illustration of the vagaries of the publishing industry.  The Reckoning is easily one of the most professional books I have ever read, yet is self-published by Ms. Mills.  Her finely honed craft draws in the reader with painful, sometimes shocking realism.  Her plot so tight it's hermetically sealed, her characters rich and compelling, her pacing impeccable, she accomplishes what only the best writers manage:  she disappears as she envelopes the reader in the story.

Midlife Crisis

Well, I'm back.

This past year has been . . . difficult, to put it mildly, and life has been careening wildly first one direction and then another, with teeth-chattering lurches in between.  The long and the short of it is, I've been looking for meaningful employment (which I have to have) and have suffered a couple of career "disappointments", as my oldest son so diplomatically puts it.  These, my current jobless state, and the mountain of job applications I have submitted in the past few weeks have left me rather dazed and glassy-eyed.  It's difficult to work up enthusiasm for another day (after endless days) of filling out online applications, attempting to wrench professional skills and 30 years of experience to fit posted job requirements.

Round holes.  Square peg.

Languishing by phone, awaiting the positive results of "promising" job interviews is the most disheartening of all.  For every reason I know I'm perfect for an advertised position, my mind finds at least two others which would toss my resume into the reject pile.  Obviously, the powers that be have done so as well.

Lately, I feel like I'm trapped in a room, knowing I have to get out, get moving, and get on down the road, and yet, where there should be doors or even windows, there is nothing but — nothing.  Stupor of thought.  This has been especially difficult for me because the Lord has always provided a way for our family.  We have never truly known want.  We have never been affluent, by any means, we've had some tight times, and my sons out of school are making more than Dallas' highest salary ever was, but we always had adequate for our needs.  I know the Lord will continue to bless us, if I could just find that blinketty-blink-blink door.

The Joys of Service

"I am careful not to confuse excellence with perfection.  Excellence, I can reach for; perfection is God's business."

—Michael J. Fox

Maybe it is because I spent so much time today reading the heartbreaking comments so many people have posted on Single Dad Laughing, that I feel so compelled to post today.  The button on the bottom right will send  you to Dan's amazing post, 'The Disease Called Perfection', a serious delve into the anguish caused by the pressure people put on themselves and upon others to appear as the media's contorted perception of beautiful, behave pleasantly, never feel lost or uncertain, never make mistakes, never feel anger, never doubt, never sin, never fail to meet the expectations of others or mold yourself into their misconception of you.  

As Dan so poignantly points out, lives have been lost—lives of children—because a person feels encompassed in darkness, trapped in their horrible situations, and there is no hope of that ever changing.  They feel they have betrayed God or God has betrayed them, or they have disappointed their families or shamed them or angered them or whatever overwhelming despair overcomes them, and they take their own lives because they see it as their only means of escape.  Because of the despair of imperfection in a society that demands it.

The point of Dan's post is to encourage people to stop castigating themselves that they are not the super model or the super mom or the ubber-dad or -kid they believe society demands of them; to be kinder to themselves; to know that they are not alone and that no one has experienced anything that has not been experienced by somoene else.   The perfection in which they feel surrounded is only an illusion.  That illusion distorts our vision. We see everyone else more perfect than they are, and ourselves far, far less.

In response to that blog post, readers have poured out their hearts to the great anonymous void of the internet, hoping to somehow connect with someone—anyone who will listen, receive some validation, or just get a virtual hug.  In one day, almost 500 people have shared this post with their friends via Facebook, and almost 200 have made comments on the blog, either sharing their own sorrows or attempting to uplift those who so desperately stand in need of it.

I'm going to share my own comment here, just to follow Dan's example and be real, and dig up the courage to not do it anonymously.