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26 lessons from God’s metaphors: #24

Just three more posts to go in this #AtoZchallenge for April. And today’s letter, ‘X’ has (in Mum’s cross-stitch, picture below) the phrase ‘eXalted one’ and the verse Acts 5:30-31.

It was fairly difficult writing this post. I think that’s because I’m a born and bred Aussie. And although I’m definitely VERY proud of this fact, we truth remains that we don’t do too well with ‘exalting’ things down here. In fact, it’s the opposite which is the cultural norm.

Down here, we’re well known for our ‘Tall Poppy Syndrome’.

And I don’t think that’s a good thing. In fact, if you read yesterday’s post, it reflected on how words have power, and we can use them to either heal or harm, build up or destroy. We have the choice of our own words.

Likewise, we have the choice of our own attitudes. Here in Australia, we’re better at tearing the successful down rather than giving them the credit they deserve. That’s not healthy, in my opinion.

And God Himself set the example, too. Those verses in Acts read:

X

“The God of our ancestors raised Jesus from the dead—whom you killed by hanging him on a cross. God exalted him to his own right hand as Prince and Saviour that he might being Israel to repentance and forgive their sins.”

In this passage, one of Jesus’ followers, a guy called Peter, was standing with his friends in what was their version of court. Judging him were all the religious leaders of the biggest city in Israel. These were the people EVERYONE looked up too – and here Peter is, accusing them! ‘Whom you killed by hanging him on a cross’! What courage, hey?

God exalted Jesus, so that the religious leaders – and, in fact, all Israelites, and through them, the whole world – could repent (as in, say sorry for sins committed) and they could be forgiven.

Praise God that He did, huh?

And my takeaway lesson from that? If God exalted Jesus, then I should too. And perhaps build up my fellow man, encouraging them and giving them the credit where credit is due 🙂

Your thoughts?

Have a great day, dear reader!

— KRidwyn

 

x

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26 lessons from God’s metaphors: #20

There’s a lot to be said for thinking for yourself, in my opinion. I try daily to teach my own three cherubs how to not just blindly accept what they hear, but to test its veracity and decide for themselves.

One of my favourite Bible verses is from Acts 17 verse 11, comparing the Bereans to the Jews in Thessalonica. The Bereans didn’t just accept what they heard Paul (one of Jesus’ followers) say, but they “examined the Scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was true.” They checked it out for themselves. I like that.

TIn the book of John, chapter 14 verse 6 says:

“I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

Today’s letter for this #AtoZchallenge I’m doing is ‘T’. ‘T’ is for ‘Truth’ – and that, with a capital T.

In this verse, Jesus said that He IS the truth. Also the way, and the life. That’s a pretty radical claim. And me being the type of person I am, I’m not just going to take this on face value. I need to examine this further.

That’s one reason why I agree wholeheartedly with C.S.Lewis’ argument in MERE CHRISTIANITY: that there’s only three options when you come to thinking about Jesus. He’s either a liar, or a lunatic, or He actually is who He *said* he was: Lord.

Warning: long quote alert!

“I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God. That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronising nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to. …

Now it seems to me obvious that He was neither a lunatic nor a fiend: and consequently, however strange or terrifying or unlikely it may seem, I have to accept the view that He was and is God.” *

I’m taking the third option. I believe He’s the LORD. And I’m gratefully accepting His offer to follow Him and His way, and have life! 🙂

Have a great day, dear reader!

— KRidwyn

* Quotes taken from Book 3, the end of Chapter 3 “The Shocking Alternative” and immediately on into the beginning of Chapter 4 “The Perfect Penitent”

 

 

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26 lessons from God’s metaphors: #19

I was looking for a ‘Saviour’ analogy for this ‘S’ post in the #AtoZchallenge I’m doing, and went looking for a couple of stories I’d heard: one about a young man throwing washed-up starfish, back into the ocean; and a story about a man buying caged birds, just to set them free.

In the course of my Googling though, I discovered that Leonardo da Vinci himself is reported to have done just that! Well, not thrown starfish (not that I know of!) but he bought caged birds, destined to be eaten or to be kept as pets, and released them. (I also found a VERY interesting passage where he made a rather inappropriate suggestion about who could sit for the portrait of Judas in his painting of The Last Supper!)

Anyway, I was planning on using one of the stories as an example of what Jesus has done for us. But then I looked at the verse used in the cross-stitch, and realised something. This verse happens BEFORE Jesus died!

It’s in the book of John, chapter 4. Jesus was in Samaria, resting by a well, and a woman came to draw water. They spoke, and she believed that He was the Messiah (God’s son, come to save the world.) She went to tell everyone in her town that she’d met the Messiah, and they came to question Him for themselves. Then in verse 42,S

“They said to the woman, “We no longer believe just because of what you have said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Saviour of the world.”

So that’s a little weird. Why would they think that he’d come to save the WORLD when he hadn’t died yet, to save it? I guess that they knew the Scriptures (as in, the Hebrew scriptures up until that point – what we now call the Old Testament) well enough to realise that Jesus was the one prophesied about. Wow. To understand so clearly… I’d say that they must have had a time of massive celebration – and in fact, John says after, that they convinced Jesus to stay with them for a couple more days.

[Actually, this verse reminds me a little of Luke 9:23, where Jesus says,“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” Remembering that he had NOT yet been crucified, and so for everyone who was listening, there was not even a HINT of a ‘cross’ in Jesus’ future! Let alone theirs… just another example of Jesus obliquely telling the future 🙂 ]

But back to the point. I love how the Samaritans KNEW that Jesus was the Saviour – and they celebrated because they had seen Him and met Him.

My lesson from that: do *I* celebrate knowing Jesus? Because if not, then I probably should start!

 

 

Have a great day, dear reader!

— KRidwyn

 

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26 lessons from God’s metaphors: #16

I tried reading WAR AND PEACE once. Emphasis on the word ‘tried’ – because I didn’t finish it. In my defence, I had young children at the time, was running my own business, and studying. So I probably didn’t give it the concentration I needed to. I’ll try again one day… I don’t like to be beaten 😛

But the title has always intrigued me. Are they opposites? Or just two different places on a continuum? (Jane Austen’s SENSE AND SENSIBILITY comes to mind.) Because I, for one, don’t think that the opposite of peace is war.

In my humble opinion, for what it’s worth, I think that the opposite of peace is tension.

And for me, ANY type of tension – even the merest hint of it – is enough to negate peace.

Maybe I’m not a good judge. I *am* a highly-strung person, I think. It’s on the rare occasion that I ‘relax’. Seriously. The last time I really “relaxed” was the 2nd of April, at about 10.30am. And I stayed relaxed for about 7 hours, which is rather a record in recent years. The time before that? I can’t actually remember.

[A Bible verse that always challenges me is the one they made a song out of: “Be still and know that I am God.” I get the ‘I am God’ bit – it’s the ‘being still’ bit that I have problems with!!! (And yes, my tongue’s in my cheek there. Because if I ‘knew’ – enough to trust, like in the ‘B for Bread of Life post’ – then I’d be *able* to ‘be still’!)]

But back to peace:

PIsaiah 9:6 says, “For unto us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

Yes, this is the same verse that we saw in post #5, ‘E’ is for ‘Everlasting Father’, the post about my Dad.

The last title for Jesus is ‘Prince of Peace’.

I love thinking that Peace is like the name of a country – like Australia, or America, say – which has a King… and Jesus is the Prince of that country. (Although if there was a King, then it wouldn’t actually be a country, it’d be a kingdom, yeh?)

And if this kingdom called Peace, were here on Earth, then it’d have a geographical location, and people could live there. I’d like that, I think. To live in a place of Peace. To not have to worry – or be tense even! To just ‘be still’ 🙂

And that’s my lesson today. If Jesus is what God says He is, the ‘Prince of Peace’, then as one who follows Him (as in, who dwells in His kingdom) then I can be free from tension, too. ‘Be still.’ A challenge for me! But here goes…

Have a great day, dear reader!

— KRidwyn

 

 

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Lessons from God’s metaphors: #14

During my years as a High School English teacher, I introduced my fair share of students to Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. The balcony scene, “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name… What’s in a name? That which we call a rose / By any other word would smell as sweet” was guaranteed to cause significant classroom discussion.

But I’m recalling this now, for a different reason. You see, that “what’s in a name?” question that Juliet poses, has a different answer to the one she gives.

Yes, a rose *would* smell as sweet if it had a different name… but I posit that the reactions people would have to it, because of the different name, would differ greatly to what they do now.

Because unlike Juliet’s ‘answer’, names ARE important in the eyes of society. Like the ‘King of Kings’ post from Wednesday, names imply heirarchy. “King” is higher than “Duke”, just as “Bishop” outranks “Deacon”. If I’m travelling by plane, I’d prefer a pilot flying, rather than a flight attendant. If I’m on trial for murder, I doubt a lawyer who specialises in real estate to the wisest choice of person to defend me. And before I get sidetracked onto chess or The Castle analogies, I’ll head straight to today’s Bible verse: Philippians chapter 2 verse 9:

N“Therefore, God elevated him [Jesus] to the place of highest honour and gave him the name above all names” – which means, just that. The name of Jesus is above all other names. It’s greater, higher, ‘above’ all others.

And the reason why, is revealed in verse 8 immediately prior:because Jesus had “humbled himself by becoming obedient to death – even death on a cross!”

Obedience to God’s will for His life, brought death – and with it, God’s exaltation.

And my response to that is to pay him homage. To honour Him by being obedient myself – well, I try, anyway!

Have a great day, dear reader!

— KRidwyn

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26 lessons from God’s metaphors: #13

MSo I’ve been basing these #AtoZchallenge posts on a cross-stitch my Mum made for me a few years ago. Each letter depicts a title for God, with a picture and a Bible verse. Today’s letter, M, shows the phrase ‘Merciful Lord’ and the verse Psalm 100:5.

The Bible version I’m reading this year is the NLT, the New Living Translation. It’s a modern-language translation first released in 1996, like the more popular NIV (New International Version, first released in 1978) which I’ve used previously.

Neither the NIV nor the NLT however, have the word ‘mercy’ or ‘merciful’ in this Bible verse though. In fact, I needed to go back to the King James Version of the Bible (released in 1611) to find the word ‘mercy’ in that verse! It reads:

“For the LORD is good; his mercy is everlasting; and His truth endureth for all generations.”

Instead of ‘mercy’, the NIV uses the word ‘love’ and the NLT uses ‘unfailing love’. I also found it interesting that the English Standard Version (ESV) uses ‘steadfast love’ and the New American Standard Bible uses ‘lovingkindness’ for this same word.

So that got me thinking: What is ‘mercy’, anyway?

Google’s definition: “compassion or forgiveness shown to someone whom it is within one’s power to punish or harm”. Yup, that’s kinda what I had it pegged as.

According to www.gotquestions.org, “Mercy is the withholding of a just condemnation.” Now that’s concise. I like it.

Whenever I think of mercy, I think of Aesop’s fables. There’s The Lion and the Mouse and its parallel tale, Androcles and the Lion.

In both situations, the more powerful creature could have harmed the weaker, but chose to show mercy instead. Then the situations are reversed, and the weaker shows mercy to the stronger.

Well, God’s definitely the more powerful one in our relationship, and I’m glad he’s chosen to show me mercy. (Unlike the Aesop’s fables though, I can’t imagine the situations ever being reversed!)

So that’s my lesson for today: His mercy begets my gratitude!

Have a lovely day, dear reader!

— KRidwyn

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26 lessons from God’s metaphors: #8

In each post in this #AtoZchallenge, I’m highlighting one facet that God has revealed about Himself in the Bible. Most are metaphors (I am the Bread of Life; I am the Good Shepherd etc.) but they aren’t always.

This one isn’t.

FullSizeRender (4)In the book of Psalms, Chapter 103 verse 3, the Bible says, “[the LORD] forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases…”

God is a healer. The cross-stitch sampler to the left shows a man leaping for joy, no longer needing a walking stick; he’s been healed of his physical illness. Stories abound throughout the Bible wherein people are healed physically; and also emotionally and spiritually, when their sins were forgiven.

It’s taken me a while to decide what ‘life example’ *I* could give here, to illustrate my point. I mean, I’ve never really suffered any physical aliment from which I needed healing. Nor, to my knowledge, have any close friends or family, so I can’t relate their story here either.

Emotional healing I’ve had a little more experience with though, and long-time readers of this blog might remember the roller-coaster ride that was the time when my youngest was diagnosed with autism.

But the biggie was probably when God healed my marriage.

Screen Shot 2016-04-05 at 10.10.01 amI posted this photo on Facebook earlier in the week. Hubby and I were out, and I managed to snap a selfie of the two of us – where he was SMILING! This would be the first ever smiling selfie, in over 20 years of marriage.

And I’m sharing that piece of information so you can see how completely He healed us.

You see, we broke up after just 18 months of marriage.

It was pretty bad. And I was the cause… well, to be specific, it was my experiences with a cult a few years prior, which had screwed me up BIGTIME, that had driven us apart.

Anyway, SUPERlong story short, we patched things up and got back together again.

This was only possible because of God. No, really.

The story is too long to tell here – you’ll need to read the longer post here instead – but suffice it to say, God healed us. And look, twenty years later, we’re still together. And I’m proud of that.

That’s not to say we haven’t fought in the meantime. I’m a stubborn thing, and a control freak, neither of which do me any favours. We’ve had some doozies of arguments. But we’re in this for the long haul, and are both committed to that. No matter what. God healed us, and for that I’m eternally grateful.

So that’s my lesson for Day 8. God Heals. He’s healed others, and He’s healed Hubby and I. I can take comfort in the fact that He’ll heal again, whenever and wherever is needed.

That’s pretty awesome 🙂

Have a great day, dear reader!

— KRidwyn

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26 lessons from God’s metaphors: #2

Miss11 was studying Antarctica with her class a few weeks back. And something I learned during the inevitable “Can you help me with my assignment please, Mum?” was that back in 1961, 27 year old Russian doctor, Leonid Rogozov, gave himself an appendectomy. He was the only doctor, and he needed one – otherwise he’d die.

And now, every doctor who plans on wintering on an Australian Antarctic station must have their appendix removed prior to their departure. An interesting fact, but one which’ll always remain a piece of trivia for me because a) I’m not a doctor and have no intention of ever being one, and b) I dislike the cold. So there’s ZERO chance of ever voluntarily  going to Antarctica, even if I *were* a doctor.

I quite like the idea though, of doing something once, early, and then forgetting about it because it’s over and done with – for good.

Back when I was a teenager, I used to hate that I *had* to eat. It irked me that there were things in life over which I had no control: breathing, eating, and sleeping, for example. If I could, I would have happily forgone them, if it were possible to do so and go on living. Weird, I know – but that’s how I felt. If I could have eaten one HUGE meal, and never ever had to eat again, I would have. And that’s where God comes in.

Because He said I could.

The book of John, chapter 6 verses 47 to 51 say: “I tell you the truth, anyone who believes has eternal life. Yes, I am the bread of life! Your ancestors ate manna in the wilderness, but they all died. Anyone who eats the bread from heaven, however, will never die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Anyone who eats this bread will live forever, and this bread which I offer so the world may live, is my flesh.”

Now Jesus, who was speaking here, was NOT talking about cannibalism – although His disciples questioned him very closely about this immediately afterward! Rather, he was saying that if we believe in Him [Jesus], then we don’t have to keep on following the old way of doing things. We don’t have to follow all the rules and regulations for sacrifices and feast days etc. which the Jews had needed up until that point. Because instead of eating bread on a daily basis – instead of following the pattern of regular sacrifices – we now only need one. Belief.

Sounds simple, yeh? That’s because it is. Just believe.

But its needs to be the kind of belief that made Dr Rogozov give himself an appendectomy. He knew that if he kept his appendix, he’d die. He chose to give himself surgery so that he might live. I’m choosing to believe in Jesus so that I might, too.

FullSizeRender (1)And that’s my takeaway lesson for Day 2 of this A to Z blogging challenge. Jesus, God’s son, is the Bread of Life. So I’m going to believe in Him.

Have a great day, dear reader!

-KRidwyn

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Reading Review

Considering the “tent poles” in The Book Thief

One idea I gleaned from reading Chuck Wendig’s THE KICK-ASS WRITER recently was that of tent poles. As in, stories need them. Without them, the plot falls over, just like a large tent with no poles.

Immediately prior, I’d read Markus Zusak’s THE BOOK THIEF for the very first time. (Yes, yes. I know I’m probably the last person on the face of the Earth to do so. I’ve been busy, okay?)

And you know what? Looking back at THE BOOK THIEF, I could see what Wendig was getting at. I could see the tent poles! (Exclamation point needed because I was pretty excited; this had never happened to me before…) And I wanted to share some of my thoughts with you. So they’re below. (Warning: long post ahead! Also, spoilers. Just in case anybody else on the face of this planet hasn’t yet read the book or seen the movie and manages to somehow find this post):

IMG_0504upLiesel. As readers, we are first introduced to her on a train. I don’t know about you, but my first thought about ‘trains in Nazi Germany’ is ‘Jews on their way to prison camps’, with all its associated misery and horror. This train journey is not one of those, but Liesel unwittingly watches her younger brother die, so the misery and horror are still there. Then her mother is forced to abandon her, which tugs at our heartstrings and immediately turns her into a sympathetic character, if she wasn’t already. Obviously, Zusak needed his protagonist to be German. But she needed a point of interest to keep her separate from the ‘oppressive’ Nazi rulers. So Zusak also made her the youngish daughter of Kommunists, the underdogs, and therefore making complete our view of her as someone to be pitied. Interestingly, Zusak gave his main character the same name as the eldest daughter in THE SOUND OF MUSIC. So I also had an instant association with “an innocent, in a coming-of-age” story. Liesel also needed to be illiterate at the beginning, to develop her love of books and likewise, her love for ‘Papa’, Hans Hubermann.

Death. The narrator. He didn’t introduce himself, so as readers we were forced to intuit this piece of information – and it’s always good (so says Chuck) to make the readers ‘do some heavy lifting’. And so we do. As an outside spectator, still very invested in the happening events, Death was extremely useful, as he provided a supposedly objective view of Liesel. His being an omniscient immortal helped too. It was ‘expected’, almost, that at times he would refer to later events, and this glimpse into the future – or past, when he related the events of the Great War as it pertained to the backstory of Hans, and his debt to Max – also assisted the structure of the novel somewhat, alleviating any sense of ‘drag’ by the predominantly lock-step, week-by-week telling of the story.

‘Papa’. Hans Huberman, Liesel’s step-father. He is the first to be kind to Liesel, drawing her from the car the first time we see him. His sacrifice of sleep each night, and his teaching Leisel to read, and especially when he rescues her from humiliation over her completely-understandable bed wetting incidents, ensures he is cast in heroic light.

Rudy. The ‘best friend’. Boy-next-door, the same age (and therefore same class at school) but opposite gender. This meant that Liesel had someone to offer her support, but also have friction with. His desire to have her kiss him, meant she was seen – by him, at least – in a desirable light: and the fact that the kiss was unrequited spoke not only to her integrity but also gave both characters pathos, knowing from very early on that he’d die without ever receiving his heart’s desire. Zusak needed Rudy’s father, Alex Steiner, to be absent at the climax, so therefore he was conscripted. We are given the impression that his conscription was punishment for Rudy’s NOT going to war, so Zusak needed Rudy to be desired by the Nazis. Hence his blond hair, blue eyes and running talents. But Rudy needed to be unpatriotic, therefore his idolisation of not only a ‘negro’ athlete, but a famous American one to boot.

Max. Liesel’s other ‘best friend’, needed to add the element of danger. Max was a Jew, who Papa hid in the basement. Zusak ratcheted the tension in this situation because Max could easily have been discovered by Papa or Mamma’s own son or daughter – and their son was a brainwashed deeply patriotic Nazi. And although Max was captured – it would not have been realistic if he were not – he also needed to survive, the symbol of hope (otherwise, the book may indeed have been realistic, but would have been too dark to be palatable, I think).

The community of Himmel street. Himmel = heaven / sky. Himmel street was not heavenly, by any stretch of the imagination. But the community – with the exception of Liesel and Alex Steiner, Rudy’s father – was taken to heaven by Death, after bombs from the sky obliterated their street, killing indiscriminately. Zusak needed all of them to die, again, to make a distinction between them and Liesel, as her survival of this tragedy shows her inner strength. This event also tugs on our heart-strings, as by the time it occurs, we readers have spent the majority of the novel building strong emotional connections with these characters.

Isla Hermann. The Mayor’s wife, first introduced as the shadowy figure who watched Liesel steal a book from the remains of a bonfire. Her character was needed, as the person to take care of Liesel after her community had been obliterated. Therefore, Mamma needed a job (washerwoman) which would introduce her into the Mayor’s circle. And Liesel having a love-hate relationship with Isla not only gave more depth to both characters but also gave Zusak the opportunity to introduce the iconic symbol – the blank journal Leisel wrote in, which eventually became the book that Death carried as a reminder of his “Book Thief”.

Alex Steiner, Rudy’s father. For Max to find Liesel after the war, some part of the Himmel street community needed to survive. Therefore, Rudy’s father needed to be away at the time of the bombing. His being a businessman also gave Liesel a job after the war, where she could be found. Alex Steiner’s survival of the war also drilled home the idea of senseless tragedy – that Mr Steiner, who was in the most danger at the front, should survive to employ Liesel, and yet his entire family, neighbours and friends, who lay sleeping at home in their beds, who should have been safe, were all killed. It would also seem that Alex – not the Mayor – becomes Liesel’s replacement father-figure after Hans’ death. The juxtapositioning of these two characters is even poignant, given that Death had related Hans’ story, of his evading Death (through chance) at the front not once but twice. Thus Hans’ death is all the more tragic, and the senselessness of war is reinforced.

Overall, I loved the writing; the description was without compare. One image that prompted me to sit back and say “wow” referred to the blinds over the windows as ‘confiscating the light’. Death’s descriptions of the colours threw me a little, but not excessively.

Most events were a surprise, but not out of left field. It’s only when you consider it in hindsight, that all events can be seen to be necessary. And that, I think, was the beauty of this writing for me. That Zusak was able to masterfully craft a story, and write it in such a way that this reader, on her first time through, was hooked by the first chapter and unable to step away until after the final sentence.

Well, congratulations on making it to the end of an excessively long blog post! And what did you think? Were there “tent poles” I missed?

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Life random scribblings teaching

On death and other such stuff…

So I wrote last week about motivations; what’s the *real* reason behind people – and characters in novels – doing what they do. Is it all explainable? If so, then is it forgiveable? When is a crime a crime? All that kind of thing. I was trying to puzzle out how to go about writing a torture scene for my current WIP (Work in Progress). I was concerned that, having had zero experience with torturing someone – physically, anyway; I’m fairly sure that I hurt people emotionally in my past, and I’m sorry and I regret it – and having zero experience also of being tortured physically, that my writing of a torture scene would be just simply inane. How could I write something successfully when I had – you guessed it, zero! – first hand experience? Yes, imagination is all well and good, but in my opinion it’s not good enough when potential readers *have* real experience of torture, and who may find my treatment of it inane, hurtful, derogatory, deprecating. So I was worried.

And so, after several hours stewing, chewing my nails about it, and so on, I did the only thing I could do. I needed a torture scene, so I sat down and wrote it. As best I could. I guess it’s just a wait-and-see what my beta-readers think of it when I finally get it to them, huh?

I had death on my mind rather more than normal this week. Not only because I wrote my first ever torture scene, in which the character died as a consequence, but also because my doctor suggested it to me on Monday. You see, I was finalising the paperwork for Mr6’s future autism allied health visits, and needed his signature. He signed away happily, then looked at me, and asked how I was going. If I was sick at all. I said yes, I’d been sick since last Thursday, and it had gone through the throat on fire and the runny nose, to my chest. He said, “Come on in, let’s check you out” and ushered me into his office quite smartly. I was surprised, I didn’t have an appointment. Long story short, I was at 50% lung capacity and hadn’t realised. He’d asked me what my athsma was normally like, when I wasn’t having an attack like I was right then. I replied that I wasn’t having an attack, that my breathing had been like that all day. He was very, very concerned. I explained that my reason (there’s that word again!) for not using my ventolin was that, whenever I use it when I have a headcold, the ventolin reacts badly with that nodule on my vocal cords, and I end up with laryngitis for AGES. The last time, it took over 6 weeks to clear. And as a 0.7FTE teacher, I can’t afford to lose my voice.

He said, “Just imagine if you got to the stage where you’re down to only 30%, and you’re in the shower, with all the humidity, trying to get air in, and then something triggered an attack. I’d hate to think what might happen.” Which made me think. Seeing as my husband regularly works a ridiculous-number-of-hours-week, I’m primary care-giver to my three gorgeous cherubs. And I would hate them to be traumatised by one of them finding me curled up on the floor of the bathroom, turning blue, gasping for air, at 10pm at night [not to mention I couldn’t afford the therapist fees], so I reluctantly agreed. Laryngitis versus death. I guess one is infinitely preferable to the other.

I was amused, initially, at how ‘serious’ it all was… until it occurred to me that having only 50% lung capacity was kinda like I’d been walking around and doing stuff with just one lung. So I did as the doc suggested. I bought my own Peak Flow meter (my God, those things are expensive!!!) and have been diligently taking my meds (so much for the ‘drowsy’ side effects; I’ve had insomnia all week) and my stats have slowly risen from the 240 which I blew Monday afternoon, and the low of 150 that I got to on Monday night, back up to the 340 mark. Which is good. Someone of my height should be blowing at around 480, apparently, so I’m getting there.

So yes, death has preoccupied me a little. This morning though, I’m more thinking about pain. Because for the first time in a few weeks, I did my Krav Maga session yesterday morning. And boy, oh boy, am I feeling it today!

Have a great week, dear reader!

— KRidwyn