Two weekends ago (yes, I’m slacking), My husband and I, along with others of Kenzer and Company had the distinct honor of being invited to the Chicago-based convention Anime Central because they wanted to expand and offer gaming at their convention, along with their other events. They offered two nice rooms at the hotel for those who wanted to come and run Hackmaster games at the convention.

We had three really great volunteers come to help and take advantage of the free rooms and the gaming fun.

To be honest, we at Kenzer were not sure what to make of this convention. None of us are really into anime and we reasoned that those into anime were not likely to be interested in gaming the old fashioned way, around a table with a character sheet and some dice. Boy, were we wrong!

We had all of the tables in the room filled up with gamers almost constantly. These attendees ATE HACKMASTER UP! Part of the success of the gaming that weekend was the terrific volunteers — George Fields, Steve Lawrence and his friend Rebecca (whose last name I sadly do not know). Steve had brought with him a fantastic LED TV converted to a tabletop map/play surface that wowed everyone who saw it (and inspired my husband to make one.)

Rebecca had a winning personality, a wonderful grasp of the system and a love of the game that was infectious. George is a champion of GMing, as well, with a really fun adventure based on tons of kobolds who were quite fun to wade through, as I can personally attest to.

The real star of the show was the game itself and the openness of these wonderful anime conference attendees to trying something new. It was a glorious thing to behold – to watch people (lots of them) fully and enthusiastically embracing the game and seeing for themselves how fun it really is. It refreshed all of us at Kenzer, who had become, admittedly, weary, beaten down and a bit frazzled by the hard work put into creating the new Player’s Handbook, and by general life events.

The conventioneers saw that even character creation in Hackmaster is a blast. Every single one of them reveled in the process, some coming back day after day to tweak their characters and then to play. I heard nothing but laughter coming from the tables where characters were being rolled up, “My character is superstitious and thinks black is an unlucky color! Oh man, that’s gonna be funny!” “I want another quirk! Oh, cool! I got foul-mouthed! Perfect!” I heard expressions such as this all weekend.

During one game, the one I played at George’s table, I played with a table full of people who I had helped roll up characters. We had a big, he-man fighter, his wife playing a magic user who hadn’t really gamed before, and a guy playing a halfling thief with a strength of 5 who was greedy and fully embraced that quirk.

So, our fighter falls into a pit as we are surrounded by kobolds. He climbs out easily, but on the way up grabs a kobold by the leg and pulls him into the pit with him, falling on purpose and cleaving the dude into two pieces at one point. The rest of us are shoving kobolds into the pit with the guy, who is wading through them in a beautiful, bloody fashion. It was awesome to behold.

His wife proceeded to cast Scorch upon the monsters, burning up several, until her spell points ran out and she wondered what she could do to be useful and to have fun. Remembering that she too had the greedy quirk, she decided to perform coup de grace maneuvers on the downed creatures and loot their bodies.

Meanwhile, having defeated several kobolds on our trek through the dungeon, we come to a large room where there were a multitude of the fiends, along with their females and pups. Trying to light the room ablaze we pretty much failed to do anything on that score.

So, the little greedy halfling volunteers a crazy idea. “Why doesn’t the big, strong halfling throw me into the room, and I’ll do this…” he says while demonstrating his perfect swan dive. So, the fighter obliges him and he gets quickly mobbed and restrained, and carried toward the back of the room.

The rest of us fight our way inside, and even though the halfling fails to break free of his captors (though the character was female), he eventually is dropped when another mage casts a spell that blinded the monsters. After that, the fighter and the rest of us proceeded to finish off the room.

Similar crazy antics were performed by tables full of new, creative Hackmaster players throughout the weekend. I heard at least one person say that our game was the most fun she had at the convention. By the looks of those returning to play day after day I expect that was true for many of them.

So, coming from a boost of confidence like that, I’m sure the next HM project will be awesome as well.

AND, speaking of conventions — well, it’s summer con season and we will all be at Origins and Gen Con with our Kenzer booth, HM demos and scheduled events. Come by and see us if you’re attending. We always love meeting our fans.

DOGS OF WINTER

The Dogs of Summer are quite famous,

those long, hot, never-ending days,

as they mosey across our lawns,

and wilt our lettuce.

But, the Dogs of Winter are not so well-known.

They are the ones that are dark,

lurking in the gloom,

gnawing at our necks,

growling at the sun.

They hold us captive in our pain,

drag us through old memories,

and make us drink the languishing tears

of our past.

It is only the flutter of robin’s wings

that save us from our deathly sorrow

and drag us out into a blossoming world

Once again.

Our Amber and her laugh

Why is it that everything I see, hear, read or feel reminds me of Amber? Maybe it’s because my world revolved around her. Maybe it’s because I knew her so well. I know what she’d think about anything, any circumstance, any TV show or movie, any song.

Today, someone posted something on a website about Cracker Barrel restaurant and my mind went immediately to how Amber’s “mamaw” would joke with her about that place because of Amber’s initial reaction to being invited to go to dinner there. Amber was given a choice of restaurants and when she heard the name Cracker Barrel, she laughed, her eyebrow went up and she pretty much decided she would not want to eat there. She wanted something a little more tasty than crackers for dinner, thank you very much! So, every time after that, Mamaw would tease her about going there.

Just a moment ago, I burped and said excuse me to no one there, but I almost started to cry because I could actually hear Amber laughing so clearly in my mind. She always laughed at burps and sneezes and wrong notes sung or played, or mistakes people made when speaking or people running into things or stubbing their toes or bumping their heads, etc.

I’m getting ready to clean my bathroom and immediately I think of Amber and try to talk to her in Heaven, saying what I always said to her when it was time to clean that room, “I will pay you five bucks to clean it for me.”

That comes from an old inside joke, based on the TV series Scarecrow and Mrs. King, that Amber and I both loved. Amanda King, one of the main characters, and Francine Desmond, a fellow spy who was a bit of a snob, had to go under cover as maids. Francine was faced with the unpleasant and unwelcome task of cleaning the bathroom. She fussed and worried about the task and finally offered Amanda five dollars if she’d do it for her. Of course, Amanda refused. She had more important things to do.

Amber burst out laughing because she always took on the role of Amanda and assigned me the role of Francine. So, every time afterwards, when I had to clean the bathroom, I would say, “I’ll pay you five bucks!” just to get a laugh out of her.

Those laughs — they were so precious. I treasure every one, and save them in my memory book with care.

I suppose one of the nicest things about knowing Amber so well, is the feeling that she’s still here, because those memories, and that knowledge of what she would do in every situation, is so strong. But, it’s also one of the hardest things, because she filled every place she was with such vibrancy, such LIFE that everywhere I go, everything I do, seems just a little bit empty now.

I am not sure, but I have this nagging worry that I’m driving people crazy always remembering Amber in everything they post online, and constantly remembering her. I am also sure that I worry too much, and Amber would tell you that is true.

For you see, she knew me very well too. We were like two peas in a pod, as they say, intertwined in a unique way that makes the absence of the girl so much harder in a way. It feels like a huge hunk of me was ripped away when she passed into Heaven. But, then again, if that part is with her there, it couldn’t be in any better location. So, I will let her have that part of me there, and I will keep a big part of her here with me and we will stay connected through those pieces of each others’ lives until that day when we’re reunited.

Until then, I just have to keep hanging on and treasuring every memory. I don’t want to ever lose them. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

For some reason I got on a genealogy kick during the past week, spurred by my husband’s dabbling in his own genealogy. I visited Ancestry.com and saw a census with my grandpa, Joe (my mom’s dad), listed as a child, along with his sister Martha and mother Myrtle. This was a 1920 census of Grant County, Indiana, where I grew up and many of my family was born and died.

Then, I found the draft registration form of my grandaddy (my dad’s dad) which showed that he was an educator. The next day, I googled my grandaddy’s name and the first thing that popped up was his college thesis at the University of Iowa. How I wished I could read it.

Then, I saw him listed on the staff of a college in Iowa in economics, history and high school principal, along with a photograph. He looked so handsome back in 1920, just like my dad and my cousin Bobby, with his shock of blonde hair and square jaw.

Grandaddy Mack's college staff picture

Googling my grandpa, I got even more information about him and his family since he was a McIntosh and Scottish descendants love to trace their roots, it seems. I found a history that someone, who must be at least a distant relative, wrote about my grandpa’s family. I found that his father, William, was a farmer and had two wives. His second wife was the mother of my grandfather and most of his siblings. His father was born in Scotland.

My great-grandmother’s name was Myrtle. She, and my great aunt Martha, the history said, were “stitchers” in a shoe factory. My mother confirmed the story about the factory and said it was a popular employment place for the poorer people from my hometown. She said my grandpa even worked there packing boxes.

My mother’s mother was one of several siblings born to Grover Cleveland Coffel and Laura Snoke Coffel. I think that it’s interesting that my great grandfather was named Grover Cleveland. Guess my great great grandparents really liked that president.

After finding out these little snippets of information, I began to understand why people become so interested in genealogy. It’s like finding a piece of yourself out there that you never knew you had. As a gamer, I couldn’t help but think of using some of my ancestor’s information to create a great character for Kenzer and Company’s western RPG, Aces & Eights.

So, I have pretty much been traveling about and visiting with folks since March 22. That was the date of the “unofficial” start of Gary Con IV, in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. Even before that, we had visitors from Tennessee and Georgia come to stay with us before visiting this convention.

Following these days of gaming and hobnobbing with the greats of the industry, we had two days to try to get our ducks in a row so we could travel to Indiana. The seed for this trip came from my mother, who informed me that my cousin Mark McIntosh’s daughter, Kimberly, who is also my cousin, of course, was getting married in Greenville, SC on March 31st. She wanted me and my two sisters, and whoever else could come, to try to take a road trip down to attend. That sounded like a lot of fun to all of us, and the hubby thought it would be a good time to visit Indiana so I could meet up with the family for the caravan, and to spend some time with his parents.

We had a nice couple of days visiting with his folks. Our dog Violet loves their Jack Russell terrier, PJ, so she heartily approved of the visit. Then, on Friday the 30th, I climbed into my sister’s van. There were six women on the journey: my mother, myself, my two sisters, Sherri and Sandy, and their two daughters, Audrey and Abby. It was also my sister Sherri’s birthday, so we were all together for a nice celebration.

We traveled for a few hours that day and arrived in Lexington, Kentucky, where we arrived at the home of some my cousin Ginny and her husband Chris. They had offered to let us stay overnight with them. Joining them was her son Todd, his wife and kids. We had a nice dinner at the Olive Garden. The next morning, after a wonderful breakfast, we got on the road again.

Things went fairly well until we hit Tennessee and a major bottleneck traffic jam that cost us an hour for a mere gain of 15 miles. We were cutting things close to get to the wedding on time. But, we made it to Greenville with about an hour to spare — two girls needing showers and the rest of us needing to change clothes. In spite of the obstacles, we made it to the wedding in style and it was quite enjoyable.

The reception was fantastic, with a great DJ, a scrumptious buffet dinner and a very fun photo booth complete with funny hats and accessories where guests could capture the evening’s memories. Though I am not an experienced dancer, I was lured out onto the floor several times, where I joined my sisters and nieces, as well as several other people, in tripping the light fantastic. I must say that my feet were a bit on the sore side the next day.

My family would be heading back to Indiana that next day, leaving me behind. For, you see, at one time in my life, I had lived and worked in South Carolina, and had dear friends who still lived there. So, since one of my cousins, Marchelle, her family and my Aunt Pat lived in Columbia, I hitched a ride with Aunt Pat to Columbia. My mother, aware of my need for visiting old friends that I hadn’t seen since 1999, had sent me air fare for a one-way ticket back to O’Hare so that I could have time to re-connect with these dear people.

Staying with my cousin, aunt and family was a sweet time. I had never met my cousin’s children, for instance, and I found them to be charming and sweet. I met the family pets as well, a little dog named Polly and a horse of a dog named Big Steve. The next morning, I was being driven to meet with one of my closest friends, Tess O’Hagan, and her menagerie of pets.

Like me, by some unexplained tragic coincidence, Tess lost her 21-year-old son  Logan, just two months after I lost Amber. We needed to be together.

I was greeted by Tess’ chihuahua Tego, her Pomeranian, Chewie, her five cats: Matilda, Meg, Cottonball, Boi and KitTen, as well as her turtle and her newest acquisition, Pasquale, the duckling. I never actually met her two large dogs in the back yard.

We spent quite a bit of time with Pasquale, sitting out in the sun while the little peeping, yellow fuzzball ate and drank and soaked up the Vitamin D, and as the duck got in its hour of swim time in the bathtub every night.

I also got to have dinner with two very dear friends, Theresa Harris and Kaye Miles, while I was there.

I also got to partake of several food and drink items that I had missed since moving up to the chilly north. I took every advantage of drinking Sweet Tea, a beverage sadly lacking up here. I also was able to get a Rush’s hamburger. Rushes has some of the BEST hamburgers anywhere. I also got some chile rellenos at what used to be San Jose’s restaurant, a Mexican place where me and my Fort Jackson co-workers spent many a lunch hour. The cheese they use in their food there is just the best. I also got some fried okra. I don’t know what it is about that little dish that makes me love it so much, but, I was thrilled to get some.

I think the highlight of my trip was going to Fort Jackson with Tess. I worked there from 1990 to 1999 and missed the place so much over the years. Tess and I used to work on the Fort Jackson Leader Army newspaper. She was a soldier and I was a civilian contract worker. Now, she works in Marketing on post. After lunch, we visited the Public Affairs Office and we were privileged to chat with Karen Soule, the PAO, who had been the assistant PAO when we worked there. She still looks fantastic.

Now, I’m home trying to catch up on housework and other kinds of work, and trying to recover from the whirlwind weeks of traveling. I had a lot of fun, but am happy to be home safe and sound.

Amber wed

This is a little snippet I recorded of Amber laughing. She was watching Walker, Texas Ranger’s wedding episode for the millionth time. She watched it every morning when she woke up. It helped her start her day.

Anyway, I wanted to post a video here that I made last night with this laugh in it. It had pictures and I used the song by Joe Cocker, You Are So Beautiful, because it fit the time frame perfectly and it is the perfect tribute to her. It’s how we feel about her.

So, if you want to see it, I posted a link on Twitter. I also have it uploaded onto Facebook, which is where the Twitter link will take you. I’m still figuring out what I can do with this blog, so, I may have just missed how I can do it. If I find a way I will put it here. Love and blessings to all of you.

My girl had an amazing, contagious laugh that we will never forget.

Just returned from Gary Con IV yesterday. I had mixed feelings about attending this year, since last year, our daughter passed away the day after Gary Con. Part of me didn’t want to attend at all. But, the other part of me (the part that won ) wanted to be surrounded by friends and gamers for comfort and fun. Sometimes fun heals.

And, what can be more fun than gaming in the festive atmosphere of a gaming convention? And, to be honest, Gary Con is probably our favorite convention in so many ways. Here are some highlights about Gary Con in general and about this year’s Gary Con specifically.

• It honors Gary Gygax, set up to pay tribute to his memory by his children.

• Industry legends not only attend, but are accessible to fans. I mean, how great is it to game with Tom Wham, have a beer with Frank Mentzer, or get lost in character stories with Ernie Gygax? It is a rarified atmosphere unlike any other gaming experience.

• convention centers around gaming. That is its focus — it’s just rooms and rooms full of tables and gaming. It’s not comics, media, sci fi, anime, etc. It is a convention for GAMERS, and that’s what I am.

Sure, there is a dealer’s room, and there is an artist’s corner, and yes, Jolly was there with KODT goodness, but, the focus was on playing games. Some of the highlights for me this year was watching a table of young boys probably 8 years old to 11, playing AD&D for almost an entire day and having a complete blast. Their enthusiasm for the game, their full engagement in the game, their interaction with each other, the creativity of the game master and his skill at making the game vibrant for those boys, was just so encouraging. It was also great to have young fans come up to our booth excited about having played Hackmaster and wanting autographs. They are the future of our industry and hobby.

Another highlight was just hanging out with very good friends. Craig Zipse came up from Georgia and he is a very special friend that everyone likes because of his friendly disposition, kindness and love of gaming. Geekpreacher, aka, Derek White brought his brother in law Joel and his friend Redd up from Tennessee, and we enjoyed spending time with them as well. We were gratified that not only did they grace us with their presence, but they worked their tails off helping us get our booth up to Lake Geneva and setting it up for us Wednesday night.

Also, we got to see our good friends Travis and Tracy Primmer and their son Del. Even though they live close by, we don’t get to see them and talk as much as we’d like. Gary Con is a good place to relax and touch bases with people.

I got to play in a demo of Aces and Eights, a game I love not just because our company publishes it. They were playing a gunfight and I came in late. I made a bare-bones character and named her Killer Jane. Paper buildings were set up along a western street and paper minis were in use. Since I couldn’t really reach the playing area, I tossed my paper mini into the fray. The thing sailed gracefully across the roof of the bank and landed behind another player, putting my character into play perfectly.

I immediately shot at the cowpoke I had landed behind, aiming for the crotch as I imagined my crazy character being a woman who had it in for men in general. Since I was behind him, I ended up shooting him in the rear-end. It was pretty funny.

He turned his mini around, and we closed for more close in shooting. He aims for my neck, misses. I aim for his crotch and hit his chest instead. We close, until we’re face to face. In the final simultaneous shoot out, I blast his character’s crotch and he, missing my character’s neck, shoots her in the face so that we both fall over unconscious. It doesn’t get much better than that.

Got to play in a Hackmaster game with our D-Team and friends, and ended up suffering a crit and nearly dying again. Seems like every Gary Con I lose a character. This time, I was lucky and got to -2 hit points before being given first aid, and so, I’m happy about that.

I watched Jolly and Craig play a cool jousting game. Craig’s skill at jousting was too much for poor Jolly. In fact, Craig ended up being one of the top jousters of Gary Con IV with that performance.

Got to play one of our favorite board games, Dice Town, in the bar Friday night with Travis, Craig, and Luke Gygax. Luke trounced us, but we didn’t mind too much. We’ll get him next year.

One of the highlights of my time was sitting down with Ernie Gygax and hearing the stories of his player characters, ones he used to play test with his dad back when he was a kid. I would elaborate here, but we’re planning on running stories of gaming legends and their favorite characters in KODT, so I don’t want to spoil it.

If you ever get the chance to come to Lake Geneva (a really beautiful place) some day for Gary Con, I recommend you do it. There’s nothing better for gamers than to gather in Gary’s hometown and toss the dice.

My dog snuggling with me as I write.

I have spoiled my dog. But, I don’t care. She’s my beloved pet, and I like it when she sits beside me as I eat and I hand her a bite now and then. I like to see the sweet look on her face as she takes the morsel from my hand and enjoys it. It gives me pleasure to see her happy.

A year and a half ago, or so, she was a stray in a shelter and she didn’t get such treatment. She didn’t know what it was like to have tidbits shared with her in love. She didn’t know what it was like to snuggle on a couch with a human and have her ears rubbed. She didn’t know the joy of tugging with a toy from her master’s hand and romping in the back yard with security.

Now, she does.

Just now, as I was sharing with her from my hand I got to thinking about God – how God provides for us and gives to us – how he spoils us by giving us more than we need, and how He enjoys giving to us. And, he likes gratitude.

When I give my dog a treat, I get a grateful tail wag, or maybe a lick on the hand. She doesn’t ignore me as I give to her, she doesn’t turn her back on me and say I don’t exist or that I don’t love her. I mean, she can’t talk anyway, but you know what I mean. There is something upsetting about giving to a pet who doesn’t appreciate it or worse yet, bites the hand that feeds it. But, we do so to God so often.

Now, my dog knows the reality and the joy of having a relationship with me. She receives shelter, food, love, affection, joy, stimulation, protection, and more from me. She gives back what seems to be very little, but it’s enough for me because I know she gives all she can out of gratitude and love. She gives affection, companionship, gratitude, joy and love.

But, when she was in the shelter, she and the other dogs there, didn’t know the love of a human like she does now. She hadn’t come into contact with the loving hand. So, she and her fellow “inmates” likely didn’t believe or understand that such relationship with humans as masters existed.

They remind me of people who haven’t experienced God’s love, penned up by sin, circumstances or rebellious spirits. They reject the notion that He even exists, sometimes. Or, they scratch out their living thinking that’s all there is and they become satisfied with it, not imagining that there is more to life. They may roam the streets, digging in garbage and believing that they are living the real free life without anyone to tell them what to do or how to eat. They fight with other dogs, they splash in puddles and chase cats and think that’s all there is. At night, they shiver in the cold and try to find somewhere safe to sleep. They face dangers and loneliness.

Some get found and find out that there is more to life than they knew before. Some never do. Some are too damaged to easily accept love when it is offered. Some overcome their traumas and the bad habits they’ve developed out on the streets. Some refuse. They become bitter and dangerous.

I know my mind is meandering here. I know that this is not a perfect analogy by any means. But, it’s where my mind wandered moments ago and I thought I’d write it down just in case there was some meaning in the middle of my clumsy expressions.

The thing is, the thing I think about a lot is that just because we can’t understand everything about God, just because we haven’t found ways to pin him down and prove to the world that he is real, doesn’t mean he isn’t. He is beyond analyzing and our meager methods of discovering truth. Yet, to those who are fed from His Almighty Hand, he’s very real, very loving and the source of every good thing.

I simply wish everyone could know Him that way – as a true, loving master, who longs for a loving relationship with us, and who gives and gives until it hurts, just to see the joy on our faces when we receive what he offers and to hear us say, “Thank you.”

I saw a movie last night called Immortals. It was a pretty bad movie all around, lots of CGI, but boring and disjointed in plot and even appearance. But, what really got to me was their depiction of gods. I was suddenly aware, and very thankful, that some peoples’ idea of god are not true.

You see, we were made in God’s image. We don’t make God in our own. Those that do suffer. They end up really worshipping themselves and their own ideas. God does not need people to define Him. He is who He is – or as He put it “I AM that I AM.”

So, let’s not forget who is in charge — the loving God who is slow to anger, abounding in mercy, freely gives, but needs nothing, yet yearns for relationship with those he loves, the creator, the sustainer, the almighty, all powerful, yet respectful, gracious, and holy GOD.

I know it might not be fashionable anymore to talk about God or care about Him. Or, maybe it’s too fashionable in certain circles, like Republican campaigns, so that His name is muddied and used. But, God is not one to be mocked forever. Though He is patient, He also demands respect and deserves it too.

Sometimes, I think we get so hung up on ourselves that we let pride get in the way of real happiness. Loving God, and letting Him be who He is, without trying to mold or shape Him, is really a joyful way to live. Because, in relationship with Him, He asks us to give Him all things. That might sound selfish or scary, but, it is actually freeing and peaceful beyond belief. Giving Him my failures, my weaknesses, my anger, my pain, my sin, I get all things from Him. I get love that never leaves or wanes, joy in the midst of pain, peace even in sadness, and His strength.

I wouldn’t trade my relationship with God for anything. I’m so glad that He doesn’t need me to tell Him who He is. I’m so glad He is outside of myself, a real person, who wants to know me, who adopts me into His family and makes me one of His own. I can think of nothing better because all of the comforts of this world crumble away when push comes to shove. His comfort never fades and it’s real, immovable and loving. I hope everyone can know the true God — the one who waits for them to say, “I want to know you.”

As I was driving to meet with my friends for our weekly cell group meeting, which is a Bible study at Panera Breads in Arlington Height, IL, I got to thinking. Now, this drive is a bit long for me, some 27 miles or so, so I have time to listen to music and think, etc. I enjoy it. Usually.

But, last night, I was in such thought that I completely missed a turn and ended up a little lost. Eventually, I got to the right spot, but, it was a bit more of a trial than usual. What I was thinking about was these thoughts:

I am not a a Christian because I want to argue about evolution.

I am not a Christian because I want to lord my righteousness over other people and make them feel like dirt.

I am not a Christian because I want to tell homosexuals that they’re going to hell.

I am not a Christian because I want to protest for unborn babies, though I do care about them.

I am not even a Christian because I want to be a “good girl.”

I am a Christian because I need God. I need Him to clean up my messes, to take away the sins that I fall into and cling to without thought. I am a Christian because instead of condemning me for my weaknesses and sins, God sent his Son to forgive me and offer me His love.

That’s it. And, it should be that for all Christians. Christianity is not about political power. It is not a country club for the squeaky clean to pat themselves on the back and look down their noses at others. It is a hospital for the wounded and dying. It is the bloody arms of Christ spread out to catch the stumbling, filthy little lambs who’ve been playing in the sewer. It’s grace poured out for all — straight or gay, black or white, rich or poor.

So why do Christians thump their chests and get so political? Why do they make some groups of people feel completely unwelcome? Why do they insist that the wounded clean themselves up before coming to the Healer? If they could, they wouldn’t need him.

It breaks my heart that there are those who love God, who want to be a part of Him and long for a place in His kingdom, and yet they feel they can never belong. Their hearts break because they feel forced to give up on God because He can’t possibly love them. They weep because they can’t change who they are and yet they aren’t accepted by God, at least that’s what they believe.

And, I wonder why should it be that way? Why do we make it so hard for the people who need God the most to find Him? I do not believe Jesus ever intended for Christians to be politicized and strident. I don’t think that is our calling. I think we are supposed to be making disciples. We’re supposed to be saying, “Come, follow Jesus” not “vote like we tell you.”

It’s all well and good to stand up for Christian principles, but then I even wonder why? Why is it important for us to wrangle our nation into this idea that we have of the perfect society? We’re never going to get that on Earth and we know it. Why act like that’s the ultimate goal then?

Have we forgotten what we’re here for? We’re here to be like Jesus, to be His hands and feet and heart. We’re here to be filled with the Holy Spirit, to humble ourselves like Christ did, who being in very nature God did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking on the very nature of a servant… Each of us should think of others as better than ourselves… Remember those words in Philippians? They’re still true now.

I’m calling on Christians to open up their hearts and arms and humble themselves before God. Holiness is all well and good, but it’s not something you brag about and force on others. Hearts have to be changed before lives are. We can’t legislate a change of heart. We have to love people to do that.

Jesus came and lived with us to help us. We shouldn’t be trying to isolate ourselves from “the masses” out of fear of being “tainted.” Jesus didn’t do that. Why do we think we have to? Don’t we trust God enough to know He’ll keep us safe?

I hope these ramblings, and this outpouring of my heart, is taken in the spirit by which it has been given to me — in understanding and maybe some conviction. I have also been convicted here. Don’t get me wrong. I am far from perfect. But, God is working in my life and I hope he works in yours.