As I reflected on the death of Jesus this Easter season, my focus was drawn to the two criminals who hung next to Christ while he was on the cross.  Two different people, yet ultimately the same; thieves, convicted criminals, condemned to death – sinners. 

What separates one from the other is a matter of the heart.  The one criminal hurled insults and mocked Jesus asking him to get them down from the cross.  A jailbreak if you will.  And what if that man were to be freed from his cross?  Would he repent, change his ways, and give up his life of crime?  Most likely he would continue down the same path, only to be eventually brought to the same bloody cross in the future.  His heart was riddled with arrogance, deceit, and treachery.  An unrepentant heart.

The other man, also a thief, also sentenced to death, had a different perspective on his pitiful circumstances.  Realizing he did indeed deserve what was happening to him, and that Jesus was innocent of his crimes, scolded the other man for speaking to Jesus in such an insulting way.  Realizing he had nothing to lose and possibly everything to gain, he simply asks Jesus to remember him when he enters his kingdom.  This man’s heart was broken, sincere, and most of all humbled.  A repentant heart.  Jesus of course, tells this man that he would be with him forever more. 

The book of Jeremiah in chapter seventeen, verse nine says, “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure.  Who can understand it?”  It seems only one can truly understand matters of the heart – none other than the one who created the everlasting human soul - the mender of broken hearts – Jesus.  The cure itself for the deceitful heart is love, humility, and forgiveness – everything Jesus truly represented and still represents today. 

If you were asked to choose one of the criminals that hung beside Jesus on that horrific and beautiful afternoon, and offer that man a chance to go back in time to redo any part of his life, who might you select?  The answer might just be a matter of the heart.
JZ

Where does salvation lie? 
Is it found in ancient scripts or is it locked inside the vault of our hearts?
What is the cost of salvation?  If there is a cost, does it come at the expense of our freedom, or is freedom gained through salvation?
To have need of salvation means that someone needs to be saved from something.  So what then, do we need to be saved from?  A habit, a disease, death – ourselves?
Further, when does the moment of salvation occur?  Is it a ritualistic phrase uttered at a moment of decision or is salvation a gradual process that evolves throughout an entire lifetime?   
These are some of the questions I ponder in my new book, tentatively titled, The Third Chamber.  It’s still being written, but I like where it’s headed and I think it will push the boundaries of what traditional Christianity defines as being “saved.” 
My new book will still invoke the speculative elements of the paranormal and supernatural, but this time around it will center on two souls destined to be together, yet separated by an un-crossable chasm. 
Is love defined by salvation or is salvation the result of love?
I’ll save more details for another time!

For this post I thought I'd share a very short story of mine.  For those who've read it, they've told me it touched their soul.  I hope it does the same for yours.  Enjoy.


Snow Angel
Quarter-sized snowflakes landed carelessly across a crisp blanket of snow that morning.  While the cold but still air felt undoubtedly like winter, it seemed to hold the slightest hint that Spring was not too far in the future.  It was a typical Saturday in early February that awakened fresh memories of a not too distant past. 
He trampled the unbroken sheet of white and made his way up the slight hill to where she lay.  The sleepy sun cast long shadows against the tomb stones and head markers in the distance.  Everything about this place told him to remain quiet, yet he wanted to scream.
So he did – then he laughed, and finally cried.
Her marker stood as a memorial, but to what – a life that never had a chance to begin – a rose that’s taken before its petals are unfurled?  It seemed beyond the point for questions but not out of the realm of reason to ask them.  He knew he’d see his daughter again someday, but standing there very much alone that morning, he needed something more than a promise.
As the sun rose higher, the snowflakes began to wane and finally disappeared giving way to a small, chilly breeze.  He tucked his hands in the deep pockets of his jacket and buried his beard into his chest.  His right hand tightened around a folded piece of paper which felt oddly familiar.  Realizing it was a photograph, he brought it to his chest, keeping it folded.  The pictures in his mind were much clearer and required little effort to open. Closing his eyes tightly, the tears still came but dried quickly against the cold air and a steady stream of sunshine.
He let out a sigh and turned to leave but something bid him to stay.  Whether acting on impulse or simply obeying the still, small voice that spoke to him that morning, he fell to the ground and lay on his back.  He grinned, then laughed out loud while wildly flailing his arms and legs.
“I’ve made an angel for my angel,” he said to himself.
A sudden burst of wind caught him unaware and he shuddered a bit as he caught his breath.  Rising to his feet, he brushed away the icy pellets that clung to his jacket and tucked the photograph into his chest pocket.  As he slowly turned to say goodbye, the sun hid bashfully behind a large, white cloud – the air stood strangely calm and gave some indication of what he would see.
A small snow angel lay nestled next to his.

JJZ

Cleaning their rooms - alas!  Such a hard and laborious task.  Perhaps for children around the ages of four and seven I suppose that may be true.  Anyone who has kids knows how hard it can be to get them to clean their rooms.  And by "clean" we simply mean picking up their toys.  Why is so hard to get kids to clean up after themselves?  Too many other things to do, like making a mess in another part of the house.  But I digress, the chore must be done and someone must do it.  That usually means me or my wife putting doll's clothes and marbles into their respective and temporary homes.  

So....I've decided to try an experiment.  I purchased for each one of my children a toy that has been in dire want for some time and am holding it "hostage," so to speak.  Once each of their rooms have been kept clean for a yet undetermined time, each child will receive their long overdue and much anticipated toy.  I'll let you know how it pans out.

Motivation.  It's what moves us.  It's why we do what we do.  For some on this planet that working more hours at their job for more money to buy a a new and bigger house.  For others, it could mean finding a dry spot underneath an overpass to stay alive for the night.  

What's your driving force?  Why do you do what you do every day?  Is there a shiny new toy waiting for you, just out of reach? Or are you spending your days kicking around the same old toys that have been lying on your floor for years?

In either case, is it your motivation, or lack thereof that keeps you coming back?  I'd be interested to know.
JJZ

Isn't it amazing how one element out of its designed environment,  can affect a much larger, complex moving organism?  
A nail.  
Yes a nail.
As I stood watching the repair technician remove the nail from my tire, it occurred to me that I was stuck - going nowhere.  At least not until the repairman patched and sealed the hole and put the wheel back on the truck.  Then I'd be back on my merry way.  But not before a piece of pointed metal, not even an inch long disrupted my day, and threw my plans out the window.  Despite the best efforts of a nearly 5000 pound truck and a powerful motor to get me where I was going, I was at the mercy of something tiny by comparison.  
One little nail.
It made made think about the powers of darkness and their best laid plans.  Plans for the destruction of God incarnate, Jesus Christ and their perceivable victory of death, hell and the grave over mankind.  But something went terribly wrong for the armies of evil that crucifixion day.  Despite their best efforts, a humiliating defeat was inevitable for the race of darkness, beaten at their own brutal game.
I think upon a tired and weary hand carelessly thrown across a wooden beam, blood pouring from a deep and painful wound and...
One Little Nail.

JZ

Spring is finally here despite the lingering effects of a stubborn winter.  With warmer temperatures slowly edging into our days and that smell of the earth awakening from a long slumber, I can't help but think of new beginnings.  Where the road ends just means that there is simply a new path that needs to be forged.  Whether it be paved or not, we must continue to walk toward our new destination.  

"Where is that," you may ask?

"I don't know, "I 'll answer quite frankly.

But isn't that the fun part of life?  Going on to new, uncharted territories, discovering new ideas, dreams, goals and whatever else we find along the way - guided by sunlight during our days and the endless stars by night?   Yes, Heaven will be watching over you as travel. You'll never walk alone.  

So, are you ready to go forward?  If not, that empty road behind you will always be waiting.

JJZ

The fresh, icy breath of a new year has arrived and with it the many hopes, dreams, aspirations, and challenges that typically are born with a new awakening.  I use the word "awakening" because to me a new year is similar to arising from a long, deep sleep.  Perhaps a little groggy at first, and maybe we need to wipe away the old sleep from our eyes, but we eventually become fully aware that a new day has arrived.  The shards of light trying to break through the blinds, remind us that we have appointments, obligations, responsibilities, and commitments that must be dealt with as well - some good and maybe some not so good.  But also, they remind us that we can try new things, do things better, and travel down a path we've never trod before.

The interesting thing to me is that our new inspirations and plans directly intersect with our daily "chores" for lack of a better term.  Its is at that crossing point that we sometimes find the futile results of our labor.  The important and good things (God, family, friends, etc.) seem to consume our time and eventually our desires and ambitions wane like the setting sun.  We (me) then blame the clock on the wall for not having enough numbers.  

So therein lies the dilemma.  How do find the time (and strength) to do both?  That is a question I will try to answer in 2015.  Perhaps in realigning my goals with my obligations so that they are on a more parallel path?  Maybe better time management?  I would love to hear your thoughts and suggestions.  

I do find one verse from Philippians that says "I can do all things through him who gives me strength."  I think the key word to that passage is identifying who the "him" really is and could be.  Should be an interesting year.

JZ

Let me get right to it...my apologies!  It's  been quite a while since my last post and yes, I am sorry.  Summer was extremely busy with many concerns and affairs - some wanted and some definitely undesired.  

However, let's focus on the present.  And by that, I mean allow me to look back on a trip we took to the ocean.  The weather was beautiful, the food was good, and the kids behaved (for the most part).  On the drive home however, we ran into one of the most ferocious storms I've seen in a while.  Lightning flashed in rapid succession on seemingly all sides of our car and huge deluges of rain washed over us repeatedly - like we were in nature's homegrown psychotic car wash.  

With really no where to pull over and not being familiar with the area, we made the ill-advised decision to drive through the storm.  Well, as you might have guessed, we made it through just fine (due to God's divine providence), but not before going way off track, paying a huge toll on a New Jersey highway, and holding our breath most of the way.  (I could almost swear that we were the only car - surrounded by monstrous tractor trailers.)

The most interesting part of this whole experience to me was the back seat.  My two kids remained fast asleep, napping through the fury of nature.  And why not?  Dad (and mom) got this under control - I'm tired - They won't let anything happen to us - we're safe - nothing to worry about.
 
Their calmness and complete trust in their dad reminded me that I too have a father who is in control of my life.  I can relax in the back seat and take comfort in the fact that I'm safe and secure while the storm rages around me.  He's got the wheel.  So often I forget his simple truth and try to take the wheel myself.  To put the situation in proper perspective, what would have happened if we let our three-year old take the wheel during the storm and allowed him to try to get us home?  Silly of course, but hopefully you see my point.   

The refrain from an old hymn we would sing when I was a boy comes to mind.

The raging storms may round us beat,
A Shelter in the time of storm
We’ll never leave our safe retreat,
A Shelter in the time of storm.

If you should happen to encounter a bad storm in your day tomorrow, who's got the wheel in your life?


Let me know....JJZ

Last night I finally got to see a musical hero of my adolescence in concert, Carman!  It was a great time and Carman looked and sounded wonderful.  However I don't know if I should have felt out of place with the 50+ aged crowd surrounding me?  Come to think of it, I am not that far off....oh well!

Music in general has certainly changed over the years.  I won't pretend to tell you that the newer music currently playing on most radio stations, i pods, or other devices holds the same level of depth or "realness" that the music I grew up with (80's and early 90's), because I just can't believe that.  Sure, it is just my opinion, but I just cannot get into music that has lost its...????? - in my humble opinion.  Now, before I paint myself into a proverbial corner from which I cannot get out, I must admit that there are certain songs and certain artists in today's music that make me think, make me feel, make me move, and bring me back to a different time.  For the most part however, I just feel like there is something missing in today's music - something that resembles....a musical soul. 

In an age of lightning fast social media and instant gratification, some things should and need to take their time to settle into one's mind and soul...in my humble opinion.  

Am I just getting older?  Let me know.. and please turn that music down!

 

This time, I thought I would use this space to reveal a little bit about my forthcoming book, The Journal of Ezekiel Walker.  The manuscript is nearly completed as I write this post, and then the fun tasks of re-writing, editing, and revisions can begin.  


The story itself is the prequel to Walker's Vale, and tells the initial journey of a much younger Ezekiel Walker, circa, 1945.  The story will draw parallels to Walker's Vale in that there is internal struggles, first-hand accountability, and of course, the supernatural.  

Where Walker's Vale left off, The Journal of Ezekiel Walker, will pick up, but go back in time to explain how the strange little town of Walker's Vale began, the unique Walker family's origin, and the ultimate battle between light and darkness.  It is a much darker story, not only with the climax of WWII coming to an end, but also the intensity and direct involvement of the characters being affected by the supernatural battle raging between the seen and sometimes "seen" unseen world.   

What surprised me the most when writing this book was the unquestionable parallel that the main character draws from my own feelings.  I did not plan it that way, but perhaps a writer's own personal emotions cannot help but enter a story and in someways influence greatly the details.   Maybe that goes without saying, but I enjoyed the learning experience along the way - it was a thrilling and eye-opening journey that I feel has pushed me to me more honest and open in my writing.  

However, as Walker's Vale ended on a pleasant refrain, this chapter into the story of Walker's Vale may or may not conclude on such a positive note.  But I'll let you, the reader, my friend, decide for yourself.  

Until next time, may the force be with you....wait, that's something altogether different....or is it?