So This is What Sin Looks Like

One movie I can never pass by when flipping through the channels on television is A Few Good Men. In the movie, Tom Cruise played a military lawyer, named Daniel Kaffee, who defended two U.S. Marines charged with killing a fellow Marine at the Guantanamo Bay Naval Base in Cuba. Kaffee was essentially a used car salesman lawyer, who exclusively negotiated plea bargains, to the extent he had never seen the inside of a courtroom. Because higher ups did not want a trial, Kaffee was chosen over more qualified lawyers to take the case. After a dramatic courtroom scene, Kaffee turned around while exiting and remarked, “So this is what a courtroom looks like.”

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Teaching Children About Protecting Their Reputations

facepalmOne thing parents often preach to their children is the importance of protecting their reputations. I am one of those and have preached that to my children many times. But recently I heard my preaching regurgitated to me by one of my sons and a glaring omission was revealed to me.

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Join New Facebook Group for Faith and Family Bloggers

***New Facebook Group for writers to mingle, share Blog posts, self-promote, expand following, and support other Bloggers.  63 Members and growing.***

Bloggers are always trying to find ways to increase their exposure and to stay in touch with and support loyal readers and fellow Bloggers. I find this to be a great challenge, particularly when following a large number of great writers.

To help with this challenge, I have started a new Facebook Group called “Faith and Family Bloggers.” I would love for as many of my followers as possible to join that Group. You can do so by clicking on the following link and submitting a join request:

Faith and Family Bloggers

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Parachutes Upon The Wind

My short story, Parachutes Upon the Wind, was published on Altarwork.com yesterday. If you have a few minutes, please check out the Altarwork site and provide feedback on the post there.

Parachutes Upon The Wind

 

The Plight of the Long Nose

Guilty! Guilty! Lock her up!

The crowd’s chanting cut her to the bone.

With a trembling hand, she tucked her black hair behind her ear and stared at the ground, shame repelling eye contact with her accusers, whose judgmental stares traveled long along the haughty nose.

Guilty! Guilty! Lock her up!

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The Haunting Gaze

He has figured me out, I think. His hasty escape to the other side of the street betrays him; his soul laid bare through his nervous peripheral glances. He’s busy. If I had a family and demanding job, I might not have time for the likes of me either, I suppose. If I see him again, I might ask him. Wonder if he will look me in the eye?

man-crossing-street

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A Teen’s Response To Prickly Parenting

[TheDaddyBlitz Introduction]

The following is a response from a 16-year old to my Prickly Parenting post. After she gave some feedback, I asked her if she would be willing to share her perspective on behalf of teens, and she graciously agreed! And without arguing! 🙂

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M.A.S.K.D.

Booming, throbbing bass bludgeoned her brain while blackened goth revelers thrashed and bobbed about in a daze, a grotesque menagerie bewitched by the darkness and the dead. Garish locks and bloodied bodies blazed beneath demonic strobes spiraling above the dizzying hoard worshiping in the night’s mass. A macabre brew of black and sweat dripped and smeared across Clisby’s blanched face, rendering a vision of walking death, a coveted ticket to conformity. But the bedlam disturbed the nauseous beast bathing within her sloshing belly, and she bolted for the dark passage through which she had descended into the gloom, bombarded and bruised along the way by blurry, bumping bodies pulsing and gyrating to the blaring cacophony.

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Treasures of the Wooden Chest

Tock-tchhh . . . . Tock-tchhh . . . . Tock-tchhh . . . .

He repeatedly tapped and scraped the wooden cell door, to the point of digging a trench with his slender finger, seeking the wandering attention of his keeper.

Tock-tchhh . . . . Tock-tchhh . . . . Tock-tchhh . . . .

The rhythmic sound was interrupted only by the deathly quiet, when he strained for the slightest sound of curiosity.

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Parachutes Upon the Wind

Vanessa struggled within her sheets, the comfort of which she had worshiped for years, but now tossed her about like a tiny vessel upon the hostile waters of the great deep. Every ripple in the silken pool jarred her eyes open to the blackness around her. Her mind raced with worries, thorns in her sides that kept her awake while others snuggled dreamily without care or bother. Resentment began taking hold of her, a ruthless robber of peacefulness and contentment, especially when allowed to brood during the wakeless hours of the night.

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