GRANGER at Halloween for 10/26/16: THE TEAR IN THE WRAPPER

Truth in advertising“, it read.

Granger was fed up with the glut of political flyers in his mailbox and inboxes.  Tossing on his desk the garishly colored hit piece in yoga pants by a former state senator, he swung around and gazed unfocused out the window at a grayish, cotton-streaked sky with bruise-blue accents.  Chuffing through his nose, he thought, “Even the sky’s puzzled by it all.”

Bemused, he reached for his “Coffee Made Me Do It” mug.  Just before he got it to his mouth, he noticed the “fun-size” Butterfinger laying on his desk; it had been hidden by the big black mug.  Glancing over at the glass bowl full of assorted Halloween-sized candy, he saw many other bars identical to the one huddled behind his coffee.  You won’t get away from me-e-e . . .

Image result for fun-size Butterfinger

Amused at the desire-borne moisture in his mouth, he glommed onto the familiar yellow-orange-gold wrapper.  Granger actually licked his lips as he tore the wrapper lengthwise.

Opening the wrapper, he grimaced in disgust.  Really?  Instead of the neat, compact one-by-two-inch chocolate-covered nougat he expected to find, a sharded mess of odd-shaped pieces had fallen onto his black crew-neck tee and khaki pants.

Irritated, he started to grouse about something more to clean up when he suddenly got quiet.

I know people like that, he reasoned.  Brightly packaged, looking like others in The Bowl, like they’ve got it all together–until the wrapper comes off.  Unwrapped, they’re a ragged, jagged collection of misshapen pieces just waiting to fall all over the place.

Yeah, I know people like that.  I’ve been like that.

Image result for people wearing I'm fine masks

As these thoughts jostled each other in his mind, he glanced again at the phrase off the discarded voting flyer:  “Truth In Advertising”.


Granger’s eyes blurred and his voice thickened as he spoke aloud, a habit of those who spend most of their time alone.  “Oh, yeah.  Many’s the time that, had my wrapper torn, all my hidden insecurities, my personal misgivings, self-doubt, all those questions about myself would be laying all over in a huge, untidy mess just like–here he made a rueful face as he surveyed the slightly-sticky, sweet mess he’d dumped on his clothes– “my ill-fated little candy bar buddy, may it rest in pieces.”


Later, wearing a comfortable black-and-red shirt with the sleeves rolled half up and a soft pair of old jeans, he stood with mug in left hand and coffee carafe in right, thinking about the recent experience.  Shaking his head as if to wake up, Granger poured a fresh, fragrant cup of Community Golden Caramel, returned to his desk chair and sat pondering.

Is it wrong to present a public appearance that’s attractive, appropriate to one’s task?  Does that not reflect good self-image and -respect?

Is it deceptive to present an outward persona that’s positive and uplifting, even when one’s interior landscape more resembles a barren wasteland?  As a Christ-follower, isn’t being winsome and attractive kind of necessary?

Sipping thoughtfully at the semi-sweet, smooth coffee, he answered his own question.

Deception is willful.  Wearing a mask is intended to hide, to frustrate and conceal.  If those are the reasons for the wrapper, then the advertising is dishonest and disingenuous.

Image result for Christ Like spirit despite internal pain

Image result for Christ Like spirit despite internal pain

If one’s desire is to be a consistent positive, encouraging and Christlike witness to one’s own world, then God can be trusted to know how to tenderly deal with the internal brokenness.  To fit the nonfitting.  To create beauty and symmetry just as perfectly as He did at The Original Event.

Rising to refill his mug, Granger thoughtfully nabbed another of the sweet, chocolaty morsels from the Halloween bowl.  Grinning as he softly checked that this one was whole, he admitted to himself, I don’t have this here “for the kids” since none ever come up here.  I have this here for me.  And I’m lovin’ it!


© D. Dean Boone, October 2016


Categories: Encouragement, Inspirational, Tell-A-Story-Make-A-Point | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

2nd Cup of Coffee, 4/8/19: WHO YOU TALKIN’ FOR?

4-year-old Randall was eating an apple in the back seat of the SUV, when he asked, “Daddy?  Um, why is my appo tuhning bwown?”

Clearing his throat, his father began.  “It turns brown because after you ate the skin off, the meat of the apple was exposed to the air which caused it to oxidize, thus changing the molecular structure and turning it into a different color.”

There was a long silence.  Then the boy asked softly, “Daddy, ah you talking to me?”

Being a great communicator involves more than enjoying the sound of your own voice.  It’s more than trotting out your fifteen or twenty favorite sayings you’ve had memorized for years.

Randall’s dad was proud of his smooth response and feeling good about teaching his son something new–right up until it became clear he’d forgotten who he was answering.  His task was not to show off how bright he was.

It was to inform his little boy.

© D. Dean Boone, April 2019





Categories: Common Sense, Tell-A-Story-Make-A-Point, Wisdom | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment


 The more observant of you have noticed there’s an ‘s’ now attached to the ‘http’, and there’s now a little padlock icon at the other end of the address box.  That means this site now has the vaunted SSL Certificate installed, and is now secured.  I’m thankful, for I’ve been needing just this therapy after the past several harried, frantic months, trying to make my site work correctly.

Slow-Down Therapy

  1.  Slow down; God is still in Heaven.  You are not responsible for doing it all yourself, right now.
  2. Remember a happy, peaceful time in your past.  Rest there.  Each moment has richness that takes a lifetime to savor.
  3. Set your own pace.  When someone is pushing you, it’s okay to tell them they’re pushing.
  4. Take nothing for granted.  Watch water flow, the corn grow, the leaves blow, your neighbor mow.
  5. Taste your food.  God gives it to delight as well as to nourish.
  6. Notice the sun and moon as they rise and set.  They’re remarkable for their steady pattern of movement, not their speed.
  7. Quit planning how you’re going to use what you know, learn, or possess.  God’s gifts just are; be grateful, and their purpose will be known.
  8. When you talk with someone, don’t think about what you’ll say next.  Thoughts will spring up naturally if you’ll let them.
  9. Talk and play with children.  It will bring out the unhurried little person inside you.
  10. Create a place in your home, at your work, in your heart, where you can go for quiet and recollection.  You deserve it.
  11. Allow yourself time to be lazy and unproductive.  Rest isn’t luxury; it’s a necessity.
  12. Listen to the wind blow.  It carries a message of yesterday and tomorrow–and now.  Now counts.
  13. Rest on your laurels once in awhile.  They bring comfort whatever their size, age, or condition.
  14. Talk slower.  Talk less.  Don’t talk.  Communication isn’t always measured by words.
  15. Give yourself permission to be late sometimes.  Life is for living, not scheduling.
  16. Listen to the song – the complete song – of a bird.  Music and nature are gifts, but only if you’re willing to receive them.
  17. Take some time just to think.  Action is good and necessary, but it’s fruitful only if we muse, ponder, and mull.
  18. Make time for play.  Do the things you like to do.  Whatever your age, your inner child needs re-creation.
  19. Watch and listen to the night sky.  It speaks.
  20. Listen to the words you speak, especially in prayer.
  21. Learn to stand back and let others take their turn to lead.  There will always be opportunities for you to step out in front and lead again.
  22. Divide big jobs into little jobs.  If God took six days to create the Universe, can you do any better?
  23. When you find yourself rushing and anxious, stop.  Ask yourself WHY you’re rushing and anxious.  The answers may help improve your self-understanding.
  24. Take time to read the Bible, and let it read you.  Thoughtful reading is enriching reading.
  25. Direct your life with purposeful choices, not with speed and mere efficiency.  The best musician is the one who plays with expression and meaning, not the one who finishes first.
  26. Take a day off, alone.  Make it a retreat.  You can learn from monks and hermits without being one.
  27. Pet a furry friend.  You will get and give the gift of now.
  28. Work with your hands.  It frees the mind.
  29. Take time to wonder.  Without it, life is merely existence.
  30. Sit in the dark.  It will teach you to see and hear, taste and smell.
  31. Once in awhile, turn down the lights, the volume, the throttle, the invitations–Less really can be more.
  32. Let go.  Nothing is usually the hardest thing to do.  But often it is also the best.
  33. Take a walk.  Just don’t go anywhere.  If you walk only to get somewhere, you sacrifice the value of walking.
  34. Count your friends.  If you have one, you are lucky.  If more, you are blessed.  Bless them in return.
  35. Count your blessings . . . slowly, and one at a time.

There you have it, 2nd Cup friend:  your very own Slow-Down Therapy.  And it didn’t cost you a thing!

© D. Dean Boone, April 2019

Categories: Common Sense, Wisdom | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment


“Somebody needs to do something!”

We’ve all heard it and we’ve all said it.  All around you and me, social interaction has become antisocial, if not scarce.  It is hard to not notice how decency, good manners, courtesy, mutual respect, and public decorum have all but disappeared.  In their place, people routinely say and do things that would’ve gotten their mouths washed out with soap–or gotten them socked in the chops.

Why isn’t anybody doing anything?”

Once, we had parents willing to grab us at age 2 – 3, give us a hard stare, and make it clear we children were NOT in charge of our home and family.  We weren’t beaten nor did we consider ourselves abused by being occasionally popped on the pants to remind us we weren’t the boss.

Once there were dads and moms dead-set on reminding us mouthing off to any adult was the same as sassing them.  Respect for authority was expected.  It was The Rule that governed all of life.

Once we had parents who took seriously the task of training us as tots how to act in public.  We usually threw a Walmart or restaurant or church tantrum once.  Remember why we never tried that again?

“Someone needs to do something!”

Correct.  The question is “What?” and “How?”  In a world where its become increasingly necessary for free citizens to go armed, is there a way to climb back up on that nobler, better path?

Glad you asked.  Here are 6 ways to make some little things BIG again.

Tip your server well; tip with cash, and hand it to him or her, with a personal compliment.  This takes a little planning.  Yet often when tips are included in the use of credit cards, the server may or may not receive their entire gift – or someone else conveniently intercepts it.  Put yourself in their position; treat them as you’d want if you’d just given excellent care and service to someone else.  Food service employees are usually paid below minimum wage, since their bosses figure they’ll make tips.  Great theory, right?  Only problem:  many diners don’t tip, and even more don’t tip well.  If the service isn’t good, use your judgment about tipping.  Rewarding lackluster or rude service doesn’t work, either.

Return your shopping cart.  Sure–grab someone else’s, too.  “Oh, right!  Like taking your buggy back to the RETURN CARTS HERE rack is going to turn our social ills around?”  You’d be surprised.  Remember how irate you get when you’re pulling into Kroger or Safeway, see an open parking spot three spaces from the entrance, and start to pull in when confronted by a shopping cart parked right there in car-scratching country?  Uh-hunh.  The Grinch has nothin’ on you.  This is a tattered remnant of that old rule:  Put Things Back Where You Got Them.

Pick up the trash.  Once again, back in the day our parents taught us not to throw trash on the ground.  And when we saw any, to pick it up and toss it in the nearest garbage can.  Ask yourself how it makes you feel when you’re sitting in your car at a stoplight, or next to someone parked at a store, and you see the person in an adjoining car toss a scrunched lunchbag out in the street or parking lot.  A few choice thoughts, maybe?  Who wants to have to clean it up?  Out for a walk, or headed into a store or place of business, it only takes a few seconds to grab up that garbage cluttering up everyone’s world.  Besides, it’s downright neighborly.

Hold the door for the person behind you – and say “Thank you” to those who do it for you.  “Seriously?”  You bet!  I know we were raised to do this, and learned it by example.  Everybody did it.  Now?  You’ll like as not be sneered at, called a name, or looked at funny as they purposefully open the other door and walk in.  So be it:  make the effort.  Enough others will appreciate it that it will make the day for you both.

Let someone into your lane.  Oh, I know.  I hear you saying, “…EXCEPT for the jerk in the kidney-colored minivan who knows the lane is running out, and still tries to force his or her way in!”  Karmic retribution, right?  But as a rule, The Golden Rule being practiced on the highway is a pretty good way to begin restoring a foundation of Good, Right, and decency to our daily lives.

Make a habit of doing small, kind acts; they have a ripple effect.  No.  You likely won’t ever see them.  But if you and I and him and her over there keep doing this, we’re bound to begin noticing the cumulative effect.  “What kind of small, kind acts?”  Be creatively thoughtful.  You’ll notice things that you know you’d appreciate if they were done for you.  Start there.  Compliment a harried young mom on her cute baby.  Pay for a couple extra cups of coffee at your fav restaurant for someone who may need one and can’t pay for it.  Mow your neighbor’s lawn.  Go online and greet somebody who’s been on your mind.  You’ll think of something…


Well, and coffee, yes.  Without saying.

Work?  Sure.  Anything worthwhile takes an effort.  And you may wind up doing it alone, even being laughed at.  No question, it will take time.  Yet you keep doing the right thing long enough, and soon others begin to recognize its value.  Soon you’ll have company.

And that, friends, is how we begin turning things around.

© D. Dean Boone, April 2019


Categories: Common Sense, Encouragement, Wisdom | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

2nd Cup of Coffee, 3/30/19: SWEET FUN – THE SEQUEL (Okay, the answers…)

You got the clues yesterday, and I promised you the answers today.  I will not keep you in suspenders.

THE CANDY GAME ~ The Answers


1. Another planet in our solar system: Mars

2. A famous street in New York City: 5th Avenue

3. A part of the galaxy: Milky Way

4. A series of small hills: Mounds

5. A nutty happiness: Almond Joy

6. Worker bees make this: Bit-O-Honey

7. A town in Pennsylvania: Hershey

8. A famous English author: O Henry

9. A “Peanuts” character: Peppermint Patty

10. Sly laughter: Snickers

11. Twin letters: M & M’s

12. An infant of a famous baseball player: Baby Ruth

13. Absolutely nothing: Zero

14. An endurance race: Marathon

15. Greasy digits: Butterfinger

16. A day employees are glad to see: Payday

17. A famous trio: 3 Musketeers

18. A large orchestra: Symphony

19. Happy laughter: Chuckles

20. A little overweight: Chunkie

21. A thing-a-ma-jig: Watchamacallit

22. Noise at a car wreck: Crunch

23. What a married couple does: Kisses

24. What good friends give: Hugs

25. Disintegrating celestial body: Starburst

26. Fox baby and common feline: Kit Kat

And last but not least, the one that gave you fits . . .

27. The Trinity:








You’re welcome.

Hope this brightened your day a little.


© D. Dean Boone, March 2019


Categories: Inspirational | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

2nd Cup of Coffee, 3/29/19: SWEET FUN


Each of these clues describe a candy bar.  See how you do.  Answers tomorrow.  Have FUN!

1. Another planet in our solar system:

2. A famous street in New York City:

3. A part of the galaxy:

4. A series of small hills:

5. A nutty happiness:

6. Worker bees make this:

7. A town in Pennsylvania:

8. A famous English author:

9. A “Peanuts” character:

10. Sly laughter:

11. Twin letters:

12. An infant of a famous baseball player:

13. Absolutely nothing:

14. An endurance race:

15. Greasy digits:

16. A day employees are glad to see:

17. A famous trio:

18. A large orchestra:

19. Happy laughter:

20. A little overweight:

21. A thing-a-ma-jig:

22. Noise at a car wreck:

23. What a married couple does:

24. What good friends give:

25. Disintegrating celestial body:

26. Fox baby and common feline:

27. The Trinity:



  from 2nd Cup Files

© D. Dean Boone, March 2019

Categories: Humor - Lighten Up | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

2nd Cup of Coffee, 3/27/19: 9 SACRED RULES FOR CREATIVE WEIRDOS

I’m always digging through old files and finding neat stuff.  You know–like being allowed to dig through your grandpa’s

‘That Drawer’ out in his shop.  That’s where these little jewels came from.  The files, not the shop.

It’s tougher than you know to not embellish each of these, but striving manfully, I push on through the yammering distractions to present them to you.  It’s up to you how you apply them to your own experience.



1.  Always do more than you need to do.

2.  Try new things.

3.  Teach those observing your work more about what you know.

4.  Make your work into play.  Find ways to make staying at it fun.

5.  Work when others either aren’t or won’t.

6.  Take breaks; rest whenever you need to.

7.  Always be creating.  ALWAYS.

8.  Make your own inspiration; don’t depend on anyone else for that.

9.  Love what you do, or leave.

© D. Dean Boone, March 2019

Categories: Common Sense, Inspirational, Wisdom | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

2nd Cup of Coffee from TIME TRIALS, 3/14/19: A SHOWER’S NO BIG DEAL, RIGHT?

A shower ranks right in there with your broom and dustpan.  Lather, rinse, repeat.  EVery morning, and sometimes in the afternoon following sweaty work or exercise.  Boring.  Repetitive.

Showering and getting presentable is part of a normal morning ritual, almost overlooked in its sameness.  Regular.  That makes you all the more curious why I’m writing about it.  Glad you asked.  I remember what it was like to wish I could take one.

I got up this morning, checked on a bruised rib from moving furniture two days ago.  I did a light workout with weights, followed by stretching, then took a warm, soapy, full-body shower.

In 2001, I could do none of those things.  I’d had four abdominal surgeries, three of them emergent small-bowel resects in a desperate attempt to outrun the speed at which my diseased small gut kept dying.  I was infusing thick, nutrition-and-vitamin/mineral-rich food through a large-bore IV Hickman catheter, surgically-inserted through my upper chest into my subclavian artery.  Though infusing this total parenteral nutrition around the clock, my weight-loss plan was working:  I kept losing a few ounces every day or so.

It was working too well.

I was starving to death.

Catheters, IVs, and NG tubes make for lousy hygiene.  The routine of medical care creates stains and strange, unpleasant odors.  If you can’t get out of bed, it’s impossible to do a decent job even of combing your hair.  A shower?  Don’t make me laugh!  In fact, don’t make me put strain on my 8-inch-long wound at all!  And to add insult to stay sutures?  Women I didn’t know – aides – kept promising me they’d be back after doctor’s rounds to give me a sponge bath.

I’m pretty sure they scoured the entire hospital, looking for the uglie—ah, least attractive CNAs they could find.  Although, cutting them some slack, if I’d been forced to bathe a patient looking like I did, I wouldn’t have blamed them for drawing straws to see who’d be the loser today.

Even after I went home and was under home health care, showering was an ordeal.  I couldn’t get the wound wet, but the wide, spandex-elastic girdles I had to wear whenever not showering needed laundering.  You guessed it.

“So, I can’t get the wound wet.”  Definite shake of the head.

“But I can’t stand this funky hair and — well, you know.  What am I s’posed to do?”

I think we kept Saran Wrap in business for about 6 months.  Every time I’d take a shower, I first had to carefully remove the armor – which in itself was a little frightening – and then wrap myself in clingy plastic wrap.  What takes a normal biped a few minutes will take a patient recovering from major gut surgery the better part of an hour.  For months after being released from the hospital that last time, I had a hard time even looking at a QuikTrip burrito.

“Pssh.  Wouldn’t take me that long to wrap MYself.”  You haven’t walked this journey.  I wasn’t doing it to slim down–I’d already lost the weight and was trying everything imaginable to maintain the 165 pounds I had left.  Did I mention the chronic fatigue that goes along with losing all but a few inches of your small intestine caused me to need to sit down once or twice while getting the shower?

That was then.  Though years in the past, the memories and experiences live vividly in my mind and in my nervous system.

So, this morning?  I awoke normally, clicked on my coffeemaker which is always prepped the night before, checked on a bruised rib from moving furniture two days ago.  I did a light workout with weights, followed by stretching, then took a warm, soapy, full-body shower.  Other than being sore and working through that, it took me about 5-6 minutes.

No Saran Wrap.

And you know?  A burrito sounds kind of good right now.  And tacos.  A LOT of tacos.  Supreme.  With sour cream . . .

What?  How can I eat so much?  That’s another story for another time.

© D. Dean Boone, March 2019

Categories: Encouragement, Inspirational, Tell-A-Story-Make-A-Point | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

2nd Cup Freewriting From Years Past (3/9/19): HERE’S TO ALL THE ALMOST-WONS

If Batman was a writer, FREEWRITING would hang in a prominent spot on his utility belt.  That’s how underrated a weapon freewriting is in the writer’s arsenal.

Freewriting can be triggered by anything.  A taste suddenly reminding one of a long-forgotten refreshment . . .  An old, yellowing picture commemorating a youthful event . . . The obituary of someone you once knew but don’t recall . . .  A rusting car out in a country field reminding you of countless afternoons at play after school . . .  A scent on the breeze you don’t remember the name of, but that instantly brings a face and time to mind . . .  A voice . . .  The way someone looks walking away from you . . .

It’s called ‘freewriting’ on purpose; there are no rules.  Time and space are immaterial.  Fiction and facts can be tatted together in such intricate lacework even the writer may not in a later reading fully understand the ebb and flow of its literary tide.  A writer’s developing character can be the actual author of freewriting, shocking the writer by his or her emotive power and intensity.  Only later – perhaps after years – will that character’s force of will and personality be seen and blended into earlier works involving them.

Well.  If you’re looking for structure and boundaries, freewriting isn’t for you.  In that world, anything goes, and as much winds up a crumpled habitue of one’s wastebasket as—only to have it apologetically retrieved, smoothed, and reread.  No rules, remember?  Freewriting is, well, free.  Sometimes in the creative miasma of orbiting ideas, pieces of phrasing phabric, and hurriedly-jotted mysterious prompts on sticky notes attacking all at once, a writer’s mind can become stuck – like a blender or garbage disposal with too much stuff jammed in at the same time.

Consider freewriting a writer’s scream for sanity!  Or a decent plot or something . . .

With that in mind, here is a snippet I found buried on a single page in one of my ubiquitous steno pads.  Think Christmastime from years past . . .


Here’s to all the 2nd Place Lovers.

All the ones who loved enough to back off and disappear in plain sight . . .

To the really great guy in the butterscotch plaid flannel shirt and worn jeans sitting alone in a truck stop outside Omaha, creased-and-laughlined face bowed momentarily over the chicken fried steak special, unfortunate enough to be hated and dismissed because back when it would’ve mattered he was too decent and nice . . .  How long, God?  I mean, how—-

“More coffee?”  Gratefully, he raised tired eyes to the young man keeping every traveler properly caffeinated, held out his cup, and thanked him.  “You’re welcome; my pleasure.”

The guy sat there for a few seconds before his racing thoughts caught up with him.  I know where he’s been trained.  If Chick-fil-A’d been around back then, it’s where I’d have worked.  Too ‘nice’ or ‘pretty’ to work anywhere normal!  He knew he was just feeling sorry for himself.  He’d worked hard at the normal teenage jobs, some of them rough and dirty; had a few of those across the years in between, too, but was having a hard time even enjoying his delicious meal.  The stupid canned Christmas music didn’t help.

  How long, God, do I go on believing for the best, while those for whom I overcome my resolve never to try again, and reach out to, always have a reason to ultimately back away and find somebody else?  Why do I always wind up being the opening act for someone else to step in?  What of my choices?  What about my joy, the desires of my heart You say you’ll fulfill?

To the terrific, classy, jeweled past-her-prime woman in light lavender and black with the tired, professional’s smile, matching shoppers with designer fragrances at Dillard’s to make ends meet, because the man she gave her heart to all those years ago decided on somebody, anybody more exciting, younger and slimmer.  Again . . .  How long, Dear God, do I keep on being too late for this, or too early for that?  I’m always too—too something!  I open my heart,

leave it ALL out there on the field, so to speak–yet it’s never enough!  I’M never enough! You’re GOD!  I know You can do anything, anytime.  Can’t You make something – someone – work out for me, too?  You said all that time ago that it’s not good for man to be alone.  Well, it’s no stinking holiday for a woman, either!  What about me, Lord?  When does happiness stri–

“Oh, yes.  Each of these featured new holiday fragrances are on special this weekend only.  Feel free to sample them.”

strike me?  I’m tired of having only my mirror for company.


And that’s where it stopped, those years ago.  Yeah, just like that.  It’s the nature of freewriting, the nature of a writer’s notes.  It’s unwieldy, unorthodox, naked, raw, and jagged.  And not always grammatically correct – depending on the writer’s frame of mind.  Characters tend to pack their own luggage.

So, there it was, scrawled in green, lamenting two lonely seniors:  one seated by a truck stop window with icy winds scudding snow in wintertime swirls through his heart; the other several thousand miles away, in a controlled-climate, professionally-decorated environment, yet with her heart just as icily withdrawn and guarded, as if standing calf-deep outside in a Midwest winter snowdrift.


© D. Dean Boone, March 2019


Categories: Common Sense, Wisdom | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

QTMs for 3/8/19: WHO THEN TELLS GOD?

i secretly think my plan for this life trumps God’s.

i secretly think my plan for this life trumps God’s.

i secretly think my plan for this life trumps God’s.

i secretly think my plan for this life trumps God’s.

i secretly think my plan for this lif

i still secretly thin

i stil

Okay.  So, at what point do I stop contending with the Almighty that my plan for this life was better than His?  When do I quit moping over what and whom I’ve ‘lost’ and get my focus back on the extra life God’s granted me, and how best to use it?  At which juncture do I recognize He has textural richness and vibrant colors and as-yet-unknown sounds to add to my paltry talents–creative dimensions Earth has not, cannot see or sense or feel?

And when does it again kick in that GOD’S afterburner makes The Orville’s quantum drive seem like a child’s pull toy?

That God can and more often than we know does do what He does all at once, and faster than thought?

That nothing – NOTHING – is impossible when God’s involved?

That to relax my imagined grip on the controls of my journey (I know, “as if”, right?) and trust Him is Ultimate Wisdom?


© D. Dean Boone, March 2019

Categories: Common Sense, Encouragement, Inspirational, Wisdom | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

2nd Cup of Coffee, 3/1/19: REMEMBER ‘CAT’S IN THE CRADLE’?

She sat in IHOP, ignoring the most precious things in her life.

A young mom, she’d brought her two daughters, Sevenish and Threeish, to sit eating all-you-can-eat pancakes, while she hunched over her phone, 13 or so inches in front of her face, with Someone Somewhere else.

The girls knew.

Their occasional tentative “Mommy?”s were rewarded with irritated, preoccupied glares.  Sevenish receded into studied quietness.  Threeish finally hopped down, walked over to her mother, and, standing on tiptoes, pursed her lips for a kiss.

It was grudgingly given.  Obvious, exasperated sigh.  Obligation fulfilled.  Sorry; I was distracted.  What were you saying?

I’m a writer.  I could have easily made this up; but I didn’t.  This tableau played out over the 30-or-so minutes as I ate breakfast seated in the booth next to them, trying to concentrate on a continuing chapter in the life of one of my characters.

Will Sevenish Pinkpants-Whitetop and Threeish Redpants-Whitetop attain adult years believing, deep within their core, that despite their brilliant and hopeful smiles, everyone else is of greater importance than they?

Will Mommy in later years suddenly come to, sitting in her recliner, wondering why the girls never come by?

Will she like the answer?

© D. Dean Boone, March 2019

Categories: Common Sense, Tell-A-Story-Make-A-Point, Wisdom | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment