Ok, so once again I'm running behind on my to-do list. I recently started reading Randy Alcorn's new book, If God is Good and was supposed to post a review last week. So here goes. As the title says, this book takes a look at the question, "if God is good, then why is there evil in the world?" It has some interesting answers. Most were not new to me, but some were interesting. I had never before heard of the "open theist" view that asserts that evil is in the world because God has limited knowledge of how humans will use what is given to us. Alcorn presents the case against this view very clearly. I like the question and answer format because it allows you to peruse the topics at your leisure. All in all, it looks like a decent book that serious tackles the issue at hand.

I feel like I should explain a bit about the crazy busy-ness of my life these days. Someone asked me last week how it was possible to be a single woman without children and never seem to have available time. I have no real answer for that question. This fullness has been exhilarating and exhausting all at the same time. I've found comraderie that I never had in my marriage and have enjoyed the freedom to plan my time as I see fit. That means that I don't have to consider anyone else's interests or feelings. I've been busy sucking up this marrow in my life. I'll be honest. I'm not sure what I've been doing lately is interesting enough to other people to warrant a post here. Do you really want to hear about my classroom? Or dates? Or my daily naps in the early evening? Or the night I sat in front of the turned off t.v. and stared while my thoughts ran rampant? Somewhere in the thoughts swarming in my head, I lost track of something I really wanted to share. I

I'm a relatively practical person when it comes to interactions with other people. I don't know if that is just the result of my life experiences or my interest in psychology. Not that that matters, of course. What does matter is that I boil things down to a few simple equations. human+human=sticky situations human drama+me=I'm outta here I've learned, often the hard way, that I don't need extra complications in my life. There are enough there already. What I don't understand is why people feel the need to let the drama brew and fester and turn into an emotional infection that leaves scar tissue in its wake. Take, for instance, what I recently said to someone about my view of human relationships. In a perfect world, I like some qualities in another person and would like to have them as part of my life. If they feel the same way about me, great. If not, that's great, too, because I only want to be surrounded by people who also want to surround me. I guess thi

A few weeks ago I spent some time in one of the most interesting, uncomfortable conversations of my life. I have never before talked with someone who probed as deeply as this man did into the far recesses of my brain. I spent the rest of the afternoon deep in thought trying to recover the emotional side of my being. I've since been told that this is what it's like to talk to me. I mention this because I've been very aware lately of how my communication style is very different from most everyone else's. Some people call it being direct. I've called it "turning my brain inside out". Today I found a new description: "for the sake of expressing your truth". That's it. As I roll around this line in my head, I can't help but wonder why more people cannot grasp this concept. I know the answer, but it still doesn't seem adequate. You see, truth is truth. I've talked openly about going through intensive therapy sessions. I've told peop

I'm in the Orlando area this weekend. I've spent a delightful few days surrounded by and laughing with loved ones and am now soaking in a few hours completely to myself in my favorite coffee shop in Kissimmee. Spending the afternoon in the town where I lived for the majority of my married life is a bittersweet feeling. So much has changed that I barely recognize the street corners. At the same time, no amount of real estate development can strip the landmarks etched into my memory of the life I lived here. While stopped at a light in front of Old Town, I felt an unfamiliar twinge in my heart. I know that place well because for a few years it was the source of one of my few joys. In the darkest days of my marriage I would drive out to Old Town, buy some tickets, and ride the Scrambler. As I was thrown from side to side in the carriage, lights strobing around my eyes, I would laugh. No matter how crappy I felt inside, I could laugh sitting there. So I would ride as much as possib