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INTERVIEW with Alex and Lisa Mendez

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Recently, I had the distinct pleasure to sit down with police detectives Alex and Lisa Mendez to discuss the latest chapter in their story, called Mourning Reign. I have to say I was excited to hear what they had to say and I believe the readers of In The Breath of God will be just as excited when they see, “first-hand” just what Lisa and Alex really think about their lives so far and where their story might lead.

 

Edward Hancock II: I want to thank you both for taking time out of your busy schedule to sit down and chat with me. I know it must be a huge sacrifice, trying to balance careers, family and, now, sudden stardom. I guess that leads me directly into my first question. How do you handle it all?

ALEX MENDEZ:  *Looks at Lisa, who nods, speaking in some mental language apparently only they can understand* “For me I have to say it’s a lot easier thanks to Lisa. She’s the strong one. I couldn’t do this alone. Granted we have help from plenty of people. Danny, Alyson, my mother, just to name three. But Lisa is my rock. She is my partner. No matter who I’m in the field with… *Places his arm around Lisa* I only have one true partner.

LISA MENDEZ: *Blushes slightly, fights an embarrassed grin before composing herself* “I would have to disagree. I think we make a great team. Period. Where I am weak, Alex is strong and, I guess, vice versa.  We work because we want to, plain and simple. Most people in our world are quick to turn and run to divorce court when things get hard. With Alex and Me – well with me anyway – it never crossed my mind. *she winks at Alex* And if I’m going to be honest, I don’t see us as stars. If anyone’s interested in our story, I’ll tell it. But I’m more interested in living than I am storytelling. I’m a storyteller when it’s Christina’s bedtime. That’s about it.

Edward Hancock II: Speaking of the Munchkin, how is she doing? Where is she today?

LM: She’s fine. She’s in school this morning. We dropped her off on our way to the interview.

EH: Must be hard to have a school age child in the house, huh?

AM: not as hard as having a baby in the house. Harder emotionally having a kindergartener I guess. My “baby girl” has grown up.

LM: Watch it, Pal! She ain’t grown up yet!  *she nudges him with an elbow*

*laughter*

EH: Next question. What makes you two work? How did you know you were “the one”? Not many people know you were partners before you were married. What made you decide to take that next step?

LM: I guess it’s true. When you know, you just know.

AM: she drugged me. I swear, man. She drugged me *Lisa jabs him with an elbow* OW!  *laughs* Look, it’s not difficult. We work because we love one another. We have our priorities straight. We both know on which side our bread is buttered.

LM: Okay, Dr. Phil.

AM: *Laughs* That’s Danny, not me. My point is that it’s really not a big secret. The day we got married, I ceased being Alex Mendez entirely. I surrendered “me” to “we”. And Lisa did the same. The key to a happy marriage? Recognize first and foremost it’s not about you. It’s about “us”. You can’t always get your way and if all you want is your way, do us all a favor. Stay single.

EH: So, I guess we should talk about Mourning Reign. Great title if I do say so myself. What can you tell me about this particular part of your story?

LM: Well, I can tell you I don’t want to re-live it. But, at the same time, I’d do it all over again.

EH: Care to give our readers a preview? A little taste of the plot maybe?

AM: Well, in short, some terrorists decided to come to Texas to try and start a fight. I had to send ‘em packin’

LM: You did, eh? All by your lonesome, Big Guy? *winks*

AM: Okay, so I had a little help.  *smiles playfully*

LM: *coughs*

AM: Okay, so I helped a little.

LM *whispers* better

AM: *ignoring her* Come to find out, small towns all across America are hit simultaneously by similar attacks. The game changer.

EH: Kind of like September 11, 2001, then?

LM: Sort of, yes. But very different in some ways. For one, they used third world tactics, not airplanes. For another, well, it just became more personal. I wasn’t in New York when the towers fell. I felt a somber sense of fear as an American, knowing I’d just watched my fellow Americans die, but honestly, it was a different feeling this time. This wasn’t some far off portion of the Mendez Kingdom. This was my home. They made it personal for me…for all of us. *pulls Lisa close*

EH: Sounds horrible!

LM: Well, it’s not the ideal way to bring a child into the world. That’s for sure.

EH: Ah, a great segue there, Lisa. When we left you at the end of In The Breath of God, clearly you were expecting your second child. So, what’s the word on the latest Mendez?

LM: *looks down, fidgets her hands nervously*

AM: Can we move on, please?

EH: Certainly. I’m sorry. I don’t wish to open any fresh wounds.

LM: *Biting her lip* *smiles at me reassuringly and nods*

AM: It’s just difficult sometimes. To think about the circumstances that brought him into this world. I’m sorry. Next question.

EH: So, Alex, at the end of In The Breath of God, you were retiring. Is that no longer the case? Can we expect two Mendez’s in the field again?

AM: I came out of retirement because I was needed. I’m still needed, I think. They did a lot of damage to small-town America. There are a lot of ashes waiting on the proverbial phoenix. Now’s not the time to sit on the sidelines and wait to be called. When I’m no longer needed, I’ll go back to the bench.

EH: What about you, Lisa?

LM: *stops biting her lip* I, uh, I really haven’t decided yet. I sort of promised I wouldn’t pin on a badge again, but…

EH: Clearly this was not an easy thing to go through. How was this different from In The Breath of God? For you, personally, I mean. The feel of it.

AM: Well, for me, it was different because I wasn’t the one in the hospital bed this time.

LM: For me, I guess, just the opposite. I was the one in the hospital. Helpless.  And I still ache sometimes. Not sure when that goes away.  *She pauses* I—honestly it was just very different. It’s one thing to stand in the presence of God. It’s kind of hard to top that sensation of joy, peace and love. But, honestly, this was an intimate, tactile connection. When you go from touching purest Goodness to literally touching pure Evil, well, it’s quite a shock to the system. I don’t know if you ever get over something like that.

AM: We get through it the way we get through everything else, Lisa. Together. Doesn’t really matter which side you’re on, I guess. Either way you’re pretty helpless, whether watching your loved one suffer or being the one in bed suffering. Helpless.

LM: That’s the one thing neither of us can stand to be. Helpless. There’s always an answer. There’s always a solution. “I can solve this.” But I think we’re both learning that sometimes it takes something else. A little help.

EH: You actually work closely with some federal agents in this one. How difficult was that, given the distrust between you and certain federal officers prior to Mourning Reign?

AM: Well, I have to say I think I made a pretty good friend in Moe. He’s my kind of guy. If I ever need help from a Fed again, you can bet he’ll be the one I call.

EH: So we’re likely to see more of him and Agent Parker?

AM: You really don’t realize who the writer is, do you? *Laughs*

EH: Okay, so you’ll have to indulge me here. My readers will kill me if I don’t ask the question. What can we expect in future Mendez adventures?

AM: I guess you’ll know when we do. Or maybe that’s the other way around. We’ll know when you do?

EH: But there will be future stories?

LM: Like I said, I’m a storyteller at Christina’s bedtime. We’ll leave the writing decision up to you. I think Alex and I both are just enjoying the opportunity to watch our children grow up. For as long as we are afforded the opportunity.

EH: So, what you’re saying, if I’m reading you correctly is… well, if I stopped writing—

LM: I’d haunt you till the day you died. *winks at me*

EH: I’ll be writing immediately after this interview is concluded!  Alex, I must shift gears for just a moment. I get more letters about you than just about any other person. People want to know if you’re for real. They say men like you don’t exist in this world. So, what motivates you?

AM: *Looks at Lisa* She does. My family does. Love.

LM: And God.

AM: Yes, God. It’s very new to me – to us – so we’re still learning what all that means, but yes, I want to be a Godly man. Someone my family can be proud of.

LM: We couldn’t be prouder, Hero.

EH: I am sure my readers would echo that sentiment.

I want to thank Alex and Lisa for taking time out of their busy day to sit down with me. I’m sure there are tons more questions my readers would like answered, so please feel free to leave your question for Lisa or Alex. I’ll see to it that one of them answers it ASAP!

Thanks again and be sure to check out Mourning Reign when it comes out!!

 

 Until next time this blog is brought to you by the letters W, E and H and by the number 2.

 

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!!!!

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Friends, Fans, Countrymen... lend me your eyes...

Wait, no. That's the wrong speech.

Okay. Here it is....

I've been holding on to this for a couple weeks now. Only my closest friends and loved ones found out before now...Okay so one or two others pulled it out of me. Most of you are just now finding this out.

It is with GREAT joy that I announce my book MOURNING REIGN has been purchased by AWOCBOOKS and will be published by the end of 2009!!!!

For those of you who are wondering what happens with the Mendez Family, your wait is nearly over!!!

I have to thank EVERYBODY who stood by me over the past couple of years. This has NOT been an easy road to bring this book into existence!

I'm not even going to bother trying to mention all the names. Invariably I'd forget somebody.

But, I would like to say that I truly hope my Granny is watching. I love you, Granny. And I know I'm not always perfect, but I'm doing my best to make you proud! Keep me in line. I know right where the tupperware switch is if you need it!

I'll give more details as I know them. For now, I just wanted to share the excitement with everyone!!!

God bless!

It Happened That Way...

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On Michael Jackson

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He was born with talent. He was bred for fame. He was groomed for fortune. And he would deliver...



Time after time, Michael Joseph Jackson, delivered entertainment to millions of adoring fans. Screaming teenage girls fell in love with Tiny Michael Jackson from the first moment he stepped on stage with his brothers. As if prophesying a song that was many years to come, fans came in all shapes, sizes, ages and, yes, color.



When "Little Michael" stepped on the stage with his fresh-faced older brothers, a world of magic was created unlike that formed by any other group of the era. If you grew up during this time, you'll likely agree, the Jackson 5 absolutely stole the show when they stepped on stage...And out front? Little Michael. The shy little baby of the performing Jacksons. The one with the chops. The one with the talent. The starry-eyed dreamer whose "star" would outshine all of his brothers put together.




Jackson's first solo effort came in 1980 with "Off The Wall," But it was his sophomore effort, Thriller, that would lend him the title "Prince of Pop." As album after album went multi-platinum, it was clear the prince had, in fact, become king...

To satisfy uneasy fans of Elvis "The King of Rock N Roll" Presley, Michael was eventually dubbed "King of Pop", a title he would earn more times than any of us can dare count.

His talent was obvious from a very young age. His determination grew as Little Michael matured from a boy into a man.

But, though his body matured, Jackson's mind mysteriously languished in a childhood lost during his decades on stage.

As the years moved on, Michael's performances remained the same, though his appearance seemed to change with every passing week. Suddenly, the child star we'd all grown up with had gotten just a tad bit eccentric for our tastes.

Though most fought to keep giving him the earned title "King of Pop", most of the press began referring to him as "Jacko" which ultimately lead to the nickname "Wacko Jacko". Sadly, that name would follow him, quite literally, to his grave.

How is it, some have asked that this:



Becomes this:



or even THIS:




How is it the young boy from the picture at the top of this blog becomes the man in the shot immediately above these words? How is it the child becomes an accused pedophile?

Oh how the mighty KING hath fallen...

And the fans?

As with anyone else that the fans helped build up in the past, we gleefully joined the most heinous act of tearing this star right out of the sky.

I know, I know. This is where people chime in that he touched little boys.

Hey, I'll give you that. I won't debate it except to say that he was accused, but never convicted of anything. He paid off one boy for a reported 20 million dollars, but many in the "Hollywood" circles and those closest to Michael are saying that the young boy inside the man wanted nothing more than to make the whole thing go away. That, even possibly innocent, he paid the family off in order to avoid the stress of a trial.

Okay, let's use our common sense. That's about as logical as Rosie O'Donnell asking me out on a date. Fact is you don't pay off if you're innocent...

Or do you?

When you're tired, sad, depressed or just.... DONE.... well, you'll do just about anything to make the source of your stress disappear. When Kelly left, I was spent and I did just about anything I could to just let the thing end. I agreed to things I likely never would have if I'd had my full wits about me. Granted, I didn't give her 20 million bucks, but I gave up a lot more than I would have under different circumstances.

Is it not possible that Michael -- The very busy King of Pop -- just wanted to make the whole thing go away? Is it possible that the boy's family were nothing more than extortionists bent on robbing Michael of either his money or his dignity?

I didn't say that's how it was. I merely asked is it possible?

So many people died in the passing of Michael Jackson. The young tot who used to crawl across the floor, desperate to sing with his brothers even before he could speak. The fresh-faced pre-teen thrust into a spotlight too small to share with his kin. The eager dreamer, desperate to prove he's not just the front man of a talented group of siblings. The superstar, Prince of Pop and, yes, The King, Michael Jackson. Finally, the
one we called weirdo. The one we called "Wacko Jacko". The one we we helped drive to madness by our incessant desire to be in the presence of artistic greatness.

Ed McMahon died of old age. David Carradine died of a horrible accident. Farrah Fawcett died after fighting bravely against cancer...

But Michael? He died of something far worse.

Michael Joseph Jackson died of a broken heart. He died confused. He died too scared to show that he, too, was human. He died too afraid to ask for help. He died loyal to his fans.

Did he die a pedophile? I don't know. He may very well have. I concede that point without argument.

But a little boy died that day. One that no amount of fame, fortune or fans could help.

If we learn nothing from Michael Jackson's death, I pray we learn this. I pray we learn to celebrate what should be celebrated. Change what must be changed and help those who need help -- big or small, young or old and, yes, black or white.

I miss your music, Michael. Any sins you took with you are now between you and God.

Until next time, this blog is brought to you by the letters W, E and H and by the number 2.

Gosselin News (Jon and Kate, for those who don't know)

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****Warning. If you do not want to read news updates on Jon and Kate Gosselin, please stop reading right now. ****(I MEAN IT! I won't ask you again!)Okay so here it is. The news has come through and it's ALL OVER the internet by now. Most of you probably already know it. I am guessing I probably am not truly BREAKING news for many folks, but if I am, I'll rip the band-aid off. It appears that, after 10 years of marriage, Jon and Kate Gosselin have filed for divorce. http://www.popeater.com/television/article/jon-and-kate-gosselin-divorcing/537333?icid=main|main|dl2|link2|http%3A%2F%2Fwww.popeater.com%2Ftelevision%2Farticle%2Fjon-and-kate-gosselin-divorcing%2F537333http://www.cnn.com/2009/SHOWBIZ/TV/06/22/jon.kate.gosselin/index.htmlhttp://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,528084,00.htmlFor anyone who watches the show, this really comes as no small shock. The way the editors/directors paint Kate, it's a wonder Jon stayed in the relationship this long.Having said that, I want to go back to how I began that last thought. "How they paint Kate..." The FACT is that we just don't know how Jon or Kate really is in person. We don't know how they are when the cameras are off. Frankly, only their closest friends know how they were BEFORE the cameras came into being. Everybody wants to sit and analyze the scandal of Jon "stepping out" with some young gal or the mystery man seen with Kate at various locations. What bothers me is that the idiots in the media are uniformly forgetting about the 8 children who are now going to be shipped from home to home. The eight little souls whose singular identity as a family has now been shattered. Why is it that journalists are so bent on getting the story that they forget about the people BEHIND the story? When I was interviewed on Joan Hallmark's "Proud of East Texas", back in 2006, Mrs. Hallmark spent nearly an hour with me just talking. She asked me about my son. She looked through albums of pictures and asked me questions that had nothing to do with my book. She suggested putting a picture of my son in the feature. Not wanting to infringe on my son's privacy, I told her no. I said that I am the writer, not my son. At the time, he was an 8 year old boy, who deserved a chance to be a normal boy. When I was stalked and threatened a mere couple months later, I couldn't have been happier that Mrs. Hallmark respected my wishes not to display any pictures of my son. In the three years since, my son's childhood has been relatively normal. None of his friends even believed he was there until I went to the school and happened to confirm to them that my son, indeed, was present for the interview. After that, he was a celebrity in his own right and he never even got any "face time" to do it! Mady, Cara, Alexis, Hannah, Aaden, Collin, Leah and Joel. Eight names. Eight kids.... Eight PEOPLE. Perhaps it'd be good to repeat, "eight KIDS!" They are children. They are children whose parents have decided the glare of the spotlight is too much. They are children whose parents have decided the marriage they thought they wanted is no longer attainable. They are kids caught in the middle of a situation they never asked for.And, they are kids....So, I don't know how many so-called JOURNALISTS actually read my blog but I want to tell you, at least try to act like you're a person. How would you like it if I reported that your kid had failed his driver's test? What if I started telling the world that your wife had botox and sleeps with the gardener? WE are adults, but Mady, Cara, Alexis, Hannah, Aaden, Collin, Leah and Joel are not. And even when they are over 18, they are still people. And, I don't care if they're 80, they'll always be the Gosselin kids. We need to start thinking with our heads AND our hearts... it's not a matter of either or... it's not a question of one or the other. Until we can think with both, we are only half human. Everybody wants to talk about their "right to know." Let me say this about your RIGHT to know what's going on in the Gosselin household. The moment those cameras shut of, YOUR right to know goes away...PERIOD! Some say "Well THEY put their lives on camera. That gives me the right to know."Okay, sure. But it doesn't give you the right to intrude in an area they would like to keep private. This divorce should NOT play out in the media. And I hope it doesn't. I TRULY hope it doesn't. I truly hope that Jon and Kate are able to peacefully and respectfully resolve their differences. I TRULY hope that they are able to reach a resolution that will allow the kids to have as normal a life as possible. But the only way that's gonna happen is if the media shuts up... NOW!Leave them alone. Let the kids heal. Let them come to understand that Mommy and Daddy won't be living together anymore, and that it's not their fault. Let them find their way in this new world.And support them...encourage them.Love them, as you'd want the world to love your children.And if you can't, you are a horrid person. And I pity you almost as much as I pity the 8 Gosselin children caught in the middle of the media circus.God, please protect them.Until next time, this blog is brought to you by the letters W, E and H and by the number 2.

Memories of him

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I can still remember the sound of his tiny feet shuffling into my bedroom that first morning. I wasn't asleep, but it was 7:00 a.m. I was going to pretend to be asleep even if it killed me.

Still unsure of himself and his new surroundings, he reached the foot of the bed and stood there. "Mom!" he whispered, going around to Kelly's side of the bed. She was either not pretending or just a better actor than I, because she didn't move.
"MOM!" He whispered, this time with more urgency. I felt his four-year-old body shake the bed Ever so gently. He didn't want to wake up Mommy's friend. We'd barely known one another 5 days by then.

A third call and an attempt to shake his mom awake met with failure.

Courage. You could almost feel him trying to muster it. His mind had to be filled with all sorts of insecurities. He knew he was going to have to wake up this strange fellow.

Again, feet shuffling. He bumped the foot of the bed only once. I faked like I was stirring and he stopped dead still. I had to bite my lip to keep from letting go of a laugh.

"Eddie!" he finally whispered.
"hmmm?" I said, not opening my eyes, though by this time I was nothing if not fully awake.
"Eddie, it's morning time!"

It's one of those phrases that, when read, means little to the reader. But when you are the one looking back on a moment seven years in the past, it's an all-too-bittersweet sound that radiates through you.

Simple words. It's morning time.

They seem so long ago. He called me Eddie then, not Dad. And it was morning time.

(As opposed to night time... I should also point out that "yesternight" was the antithesis to "yesterday". It's funny what bugs you at the time is the very thing you eventually wind up missing when your child grows up.)

"Yeah," I answered. It was, indeed, morning time.

"Can you put on my movie?" He had this movie called "I love big machines." It was all about construction vehicles. If he wasn't watching old episodes of Monster Jam, chances are, he was watching I Love Big Machines.

And so I did. Reluctantly, I rose from the bed, half cursing Kelly for the sound sleeper (or great actress) she was.

As I put the tape in the vcr, he hopped on the couch. (And by "hopped" I mean just that. He leapt onto the couch as if he were a teeny tiny bunny rabbit.

When Kelly came out later, the hopping had ceased. Just as he'd done the first moment he met me, my son had found his way into my lap where he curled up to watch his movie before dozing off.

She came in the room and had the strangest look on her face. I'm guessing it probably matched the "what the heck?" look that had crawled its way onto mine.

It's strange how two people can so instantly bond. Looking back, I believe I was "dad" even then. In deed if not yet in word.

Seven years has brought about a lot of changes since the first time I held that tiny tot. He's 11 now. His voice hasn't changed, but his features sure have. The chipmunk cheeks that I fell in love with, the first moment I saw them... they're gone now. Gone is all his baby fat. Gone are the 4 year old questions, replaced by questions that are becoming increasingly deep and philisophical.

He's a little man now more than ever. On his way to becoming a big man.

In the last seven years, I haven't missed a day of it. Looking back, I see times when I was so focused on discipline or on "parenting" that I missed the chance to just enjoy him.

That makes it all the more difficult now that he's gone. Now that Kelly has taken him and moved him an hour away, I miss out on so much. I get him occasionally, sure. But What about those days when he's not here?

His first date. His first car. The endless practices he's going to have if he truly decides to join band next year. The screeching sound of a 12 year old trying desperately to learn a new thing. I am going to miss it all.

So many memories.

Such precious little time.

They look like big, good, strong hands, don't they... I always thought that's what they were." Rockbiter -1984

Until next time, this blog is brought to you by the letters W, E and H and by the number 2.

The Meaning

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I've posted the above songs on facebook, but I don't recall ever posting them here, at least not in a blog. I don't know what the future holds. I don't know what his days will be like. I don't know with what his time will be filled. But I know that I no longer have a say in his daily life. What kind of man will he become and will he resent me for not being there as he makes that journey? That's my job. And I can't do it anymore. I love you, son. Daddy loves you so much!Until next time, this blog is brought to you by the letters W, E and H and by the number 2.

THE NEW PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE

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In Light of Obama's declaration that we are not a Christian Nation but a Muslim one, I have decided the time has come to re-write the Pledge of Allegiance.

Everybody stand. Men, remove your turbans, Women, keep your burkha's on, you sinful dogs you!

Now, if you can, repeat after me...

"I Pledge allegiance..."

(waits for the repeat)


"To the flag..."
(waiting)

"of the United States of Obama..."

(Again, waits as the lemmings repeat it...)

"And to the Islamic Republic...To which we've converted..."

(Waits)

"One Nation... Under Allah.... Unbelievable... With Tyrany and Injustice For All..."


Kiss my ass, Obama! This is a Christian Nation! Love it or Leave it!!!!

Until next time, this blog is brought to you by the letters W, E and H and by the number 2....

(and any comments flaming me or this great CHRISTIAN nation will be deleted!)

It's hard sometimes

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Being born with spina bifida, it's hard to do certain things that, frankly, are easy for others to do. I didn't say impossible, mind you. Just difficult.

Recently, at the SBANT conference, I made the statement that if I wanted to put in the work, I believed I could replace Tom Brady as the starting QB for the Patriots. Or Tony Romo for you Cowboy fans out there.

I said basically that if I was willing to lose the sleep, work my butt off and practice till my eyeballs bled, I could do it. When it's all said and done, victory goes to the one that wants it the most. The one who's willing to prepare and struggle and sacrifice the most in the pursuit of their goal.

When Michael Phelps won 8 Gold Medals at the 2008 Olympics, the world stopped! Superman had descended from the Great Beyond and come to save planet Earth!

What most people don't know is that Michael Phelps wasn't necessarily the most gifted athelete in that pool. (Maybe he was... I said he wasn't NECESSARILY the most gifted). Michael Phelps, more than anything, was simply the most prepared. The most determined. And, in at least one of those races, just dang lucky!

I'm not generally very lucky. In love, in business or in life, Luck is not a commodity of which I have in abundance. I've never been "lucky" with the ladies. By and large, I'm wayyyyy too shy to approach a woman in a social setting, which drastically hinders my love life. I'm not one to approach people to make friends and when I'm doing book signings, though I enjoy the living heck out of them, It's very difficult for me to talk to strangers. It doesn't matter what the setting, I find myself asking "are they talking to me or the chair? As luck generally has it, they're talking to the chair. But if I can ever get them to listen to ME for 5 minutes, they usually see a man of decent intelligence, wit and maybe even a bit of charm. I've caught more agent and editor interest from face to face interviews at conferences than I have sending out literally hundreds of queries and submission packets!

Preparation? That's another story all together. In "Love", I've wanted to be in an actual relationship since I was 14. I've been "Preparing" for "forever" my entire life. I never get into a relationship to "See if it will work." I go in determined to make it work, no matter how hard life gets. And BELIEVE ME, lilfe gets pretty hard when you have Spina Bifida! But honestly, no matter what's come my way, I've always SOARED from the ashes and flown with the eagles. Sometimes it might take me a little longer to rise than somebody else, but Ed always rises. Period! Even when I crash and burn, I DO rise from those ashes.

Why? Because I won't let myself stay down. In love, in Life, In Business, I won't stay down for long. I can't live that way. I just can't.

In 35 years, too many people have doubted me. Too many people have given me up for worthless. It's amazing what a little unbelief can do to motivate a person.

I have many goals in life, most of which remain unachieved.
The first would be to see my son grow into a good man. He's already well on his way.
The second would be a publishing career that can sustain myself and a family.
The third would be said aforementioned family. To find a mate or partner even CLOSE to that of Proverbs 31 would be a blessing.
Last, but certainly not least, I want to make it to Heaven so that I can see Granny again.

There are other goals, of course, but these have long been the top of the heap. (I've wanted to go to Heaven even before Granny died. Now, I have even more of a reason...)

It's hard sometimes, not because of my own faith or lack thereof but for the faith others seem to lack in me.

Having said that, my life is not without those who believe in me. Heck the list of believers is a mile long! While their love and support is appreciated and, in its own way, motivating, honestly it is the doubters that have shaped more of who I am. Because they've done something, perhaps without meaning to, that you just shouldn't do.

They've dared me.

Luck? Don't need it.
Preparation? PPFFFFT! I think I was born ready!
Determination? Check, Check and DOUBLE, TRIPLE, QUADRUPLE check!

I'm determined to have a good life, despite all the world seems to throw at me. Why? Because I deserve it.

How do I know?

Simple. I heard Joel Osteen say this and I don't think I've ever really been so blown away. He said that believers needn't be worried when Satan is attacking. They should be worried when he's NOT attacking. Why? If he's attacking, it means he's scared. If he's not attacking, it means you're not moving. You're not making forward progress. You're stuck right where he wants you....outside of God's will.

This year has been one of SUPERIOR attacks on my life. Until about a month ago, when I heard that profound word, honestly I wanted to give up. Honestly, I was ready to throw in the towel and just say to heck with it. I was ready to quit.

Now?

I'm ready all right. I'm ready to take on the world.

Because on the other side of this is the life I've always wanted. And nothing in Hell or on EARTH is going to prevent me from having all that I've always wanted!

On the other side of this is the job and financial situation I want.
On the other side of this is the touring and travel that I want.
On the other side of this is the respect and admiration I want.
On the other side of all this is the family I want.

I do wonder something though. Let's say I never marry again. Say I go to my grave never having the romantic love of another. What happens to those people in Heaven? Are they given a Heavenly spouse? Hmmmm....
Dibs on Jessica Alba!

Until next time, this rambling "Garbage Dump" blog is brought to you by the letters W, E and H and by the number 2.