Paying off the house

I’ve always heard that it’s a good goal to pay off your mortgage.  So I did.  I thought it was a great idea.  My mortgage interest was over 6%, it was costing me every month, and I happily spent my annual bonus to pay it off.  Only good things can come of this, right?

Not necessarily.  I do have a lot more breathing room on the budget.  There seems to be a little more money at the end of the month.  But my credit rating took a hit.  I didn’t know why at first, but I went from 820 or so to 760.  For a couple of months, it didn’t offer an explanation, but then it said “no payment on installment loan” or something like that.  Yep.  Paying off the house cost me 60 points.

Not a big deal, I thought.  A score of 760 is still pretty respectable.  So with the next year’s bonus, I bought a van for the wife.  I got a really nice one, put 40% down, and got a great rate financing the rest.  The car note is now about what I was paying in principle and interest, so I feel like I can afford it.  Then I got my annual home insurance bill.  Wham!  Up 50%!

I called the insurance company, and sure enough, they ran a credit check.  Didn’t bother to look at my score.  They looked at my debt.  Apparently, if you owe more than $23K, they knock you up a price notch.  That’s everything – car, credit card, etc. – except a mortgage.  I could owe $100K on the house and they wouldn’t care.  In other words, I could take out a second mortgage on the house, indebting myself for 30 more years, pay off the car, and the banks would reward me for having more credit-worthiness.

This is dreadfully unfair and illogical, but what are you going to do?  When life hurls lemons at you with a potato gun, your only option is to stand there and take it.  Not like you can dodge big yellow bullets.  Or, don’t buy anything expensive.  Unless it’s a house.  I just wish I had known about that magic number.  I could have re-arranged some things and probably gotten it down below $23K.

Who knew that paying off the house would cost me over a thousand dollars extra per year?  I’m definitely paying down my debt to get under that magic number as soon as I can.  But if you’re thinking about paying off the house, beware: banks want you in debt to them, but not to car dealerships.

-Mark

Harvey vs Allison

My how times have changed.

My wife and I had been married for a year or two, and she had just started selling Tupperware.  Being new, poor and immature, we took them seriously when they said the order had to be in by the end of the day.  Sure, there was a tropical storm, the roads were flooded and wind blowing like crazy, but deadlines are deadlines, right?  So, we loaded up in my ’73 Valiant and headed out in the storm to deliver the all-important Tupperware order.  Stupid, right?

Made it to the Almeda mall area, and water was lapping the bottom of the car.  Headlights were dipping in and out of the water, which splashed up on the windshield and formed big waves as we trudged along.  Finally, I made the executive decision to turn around.  Deadlines be damned, this was just plain crazy.  So I saw a big, open area and made a sweeping turn, trying to keep my momentum up so I wouldn’t stall out.  Suddenly, the passenger side front plunged down into something murky.  I leaned on the throttle, and managed to peel away when halfway through my U-turn, the front end drove straight down into the water.

The engine died.  I immediately tried to start it, heard the whrr-clunk of hydro-lock, and knew it wouldn’t run again.  Water was pouring in to the front, submerging the pedals and up into the front seats.  I yanked my wife into the back (still not sure how I did that), got the baby unbuckled from the car seat, and got out in the impromptu lake just as the car settled into the ditch.  (Found out later that “big open area” was just a regular road with ditches on both sides.  I almost got into the first one, then plunged straight into the opposite side. Like I said: young and stupid.)  It happened so fast.  To me, it was like slow motion.  My wife says, one minute we were in the car and the next she knew, we were in the street.  I guess there’s a reason God gives young people fast reflexes, eh?

So there we were.  Gale-force winds driving the stinging rain almost sideways.  Barely able to see the freeway, soaked to the bone, pushing our way through the waist-high current, me, my wife and baby.  I can remember him actually laughing at the rain as it struck his face.  To him, it was just another adventure, I guess.  Me, I felt like we were in a disaster movie.  It was surreal.

Trudging through waist-high water, we finally made it to the freeway.  We went in to the waffle house and stood shivering in the entrance.  Patrons gave us a curt look, rolled their eyes and went back to their dinners.  A waitress noticed us and reluctantly asked if she could help us? I asked if they took checks, which is all I had besides a little change.  Nope, they don’t take checks.  I glanced longingly over at a man sipping a hot cup of coffee.  Do you think we could just come in and sit down while we wait for a ride?  The waitress glanced at the puddle on the floor, then looked at us.  I guess so, was her reply.  We ordered two waters and I went to find a pay phone to call my pastor, who is the only one I know with a really, really big truck.  We were there an hour, as he searched for us at the wrong diner.  It was much harder to communicate in the pre-cell-phone era.  And we did finally make it out.

People forget how it used to be.  Nowadays, people are falling over each other to help in a crisis.  It’s wonderful that they had to turn away people with boats because they had too many.  It’s great that we don’t have room to fit all of the food in the fridge because FEMA put a bunch of money on my daughter’s welfare card and the stores finally opened up & she went on a bit of a spending spree.  It’s awesome.  It used to be that people didn’t help you.  You were on your own.  The government wasn’t going to save you.  They were a last, last, last resort, after all other attempts had failed.  Maybe.  You had to save yourself, and if that didn’t work, you had to find someone to save you.  And if you couldn’t be saved, well then, I guess you just died, right?

The overwhelming outpouring of support for Harvey victims has been extraordinary.  People really are more connected and more caring than they used to be.  It may not seem that way when you watch the evening news, but I have seen it first-hand.  Say what you will about people, and how things were better in the “good ole days”, but when something really big happens, people get up and help.  Trust me; I’ve been through Allison and I’ve been through Harvey.  This ain’t the good ole days.  It’s better.

-Mark

 

My Hurricane Harvey Experience

I’m happy to say, we’re safe and dry in this household.  And by dry I mean both physically and spiritually.  This October will make 4 years of sobriety for me, and if this storm doesn’t make me drink, nothing will.

Like everyone else in Houston, I am in shock at how much water and flooding has occurred.  It’s hard to know when to take the weather predictions and the news seriously.  Every time it rains, they get all excited and tell you the world is ending.  Weather is the only subject they seem to be comfortable editorializing.  Everything else is more or less fact-based, but when it comes to weather, it’s opinions galore.  Locally, we have received about 40 inches of rain since last Thursday.  Saturday and Sunday night were the worst.  It was coming down in buckets, and my phone alerts were so frequent they became annoying.  During the tornado warning, with the wind whipping around outside, we actually thought we might get hit.  I got the storm shelter ready, put some dry clothes & a flashlight in there, a few other little things.  Thank God we didn’t need it.  Water got up over the curb, but that’s it.  Turns out our neighborhood has some really good drainage.  I’m about 30 feet above sea level here and outside any flood zones.  Turns out it really is all about location, location, location.  I could probably sell tomorrow for $200K as a flood-proof, hurricane-proof house.  We never even lost electricity.

My daughter’s house got about a foot of floodwater in it.  She’s here with us now, along with her family and pets.  It’s been a struggle feeding everyone and it’s a constant routine of cleaning, cooking, laundry, repeat, every day.  The chemical plant I work for is flooded as well.  I’ve been told to stay home until called in, which is good because my little BRZ wouldn’t make it that far anyway.

I pray to God for the rest of Houston.  This is an incredible disaster for the city.  I’m not one of those big tough guys that rescues people with his big truck and giant boat.  I’ve never been that guy.  God has given me the skillset and abilities to do just one thing, and that is to take care of my family.  It would be nice to be able to save people and get them to dry land, pick them up from rooftops in my big fan boat, but it never seems to work out for me.  And that’s OK.  We all have different roles to play, don’t we?  I’m the grandad.  I provide.

I doubt much of anyone is still reading my posts, but if you are, say a prayer for Houston, especially the poor.  My daughter’s situation is pretty common.  They basically don’t have a penny to their name, and have lost almost all of their possessions.  Their house may not be habittable, and it’s likely the car they left behind is totaled.  Without help, they’re in a world of hurt.  And theirs isn’t even the worst story.  At least they got out.  I would imagine a lot of people, they will find after the waters recede, did not.

God bless Houston and God bless Texas.

-Mark

What did you not do today?

Don’t beat yourself up over what you did not do today.  The things you didn’t do is infinite.  There is no way you can do all of them; it’s impossible.  Concentrate on your accomplishments.  You will get rewarded for your works, for the things you did, not the things that you didn’t do.  Think about it.  You didn’t give all your money to the poor.  You didn’t offer your body to be burned.  You didn’t clean the grout in the bathroom with a toothbrush, especially that little spot by the toilet where you have to get on your knees and stretch until your nose touches the bowl right next to the trash can and there’s always a spider’s web and a few dirty Q-tips.  The list is endless; no one can do everything.

You know what I didn’t do today?  I didn’t drink alcohol.  In fact, I haven’t had a drink for almost four years.  Maybe I didn’t finish painting the upstairs, and maybe the check engine light is still on, and maybe we don’t have lunch ready to cook yet and will probably eat junk food again, but damn it, what’s more important?  The fact that I’m sober, or the fact that the fucking walls don’t match the new couch?  Nobody is impressed with sobriety, or faithfulness, or any other type of tireless consistency.  People want to hear about your new (finished) home theater room, or the new recipe you mastered, or the new car you bought.  Maintenance isn’t sexy.  Everyone wants to hear about upgrades, but upgrades don’t pay the bills.

I refuse to beat myself up for the infinite number of things I didn’t do.  I’m not God.  I don’t have unlimited time, energy and money.  If God wants me to do something, He’ll give me the opportunity along with the will and ability to do so.  In the mean time, I’ll keep doing what He put me here to do: taking care of my family.  It may not be glamorous to replace a broken fence slat, drive the kids to the mall, change the oil or run the dishwasher, but it needs to be done.  When I get to Heaven, I want to hear, well done thou good and faithful servant.  And that’s what I am, a servant, not a CEO.  I’m doing my best to obey my lord, stay out of trouble and keep everyone safe, sheltered and fed.  It uses up all my time and energy, and if that’s all I get done, so be it.  The rest of that shit doesn’t matter.  It’s like dessert.  Cake is awesome, but eating sugar on an empty stomach can make you sick.

So what did you do today?  If you’re still married, employed and sober, you’re doing good.  Very good.  Well done, fellow servant.  Well done indeed.

-Mark

Just existing is enough

It’s enough to just exist.  It’s enough to watch a sunset, or sit by a lake, or close your eyes and listen to the wind in the trees.  It’s enough to watch children play at the park, to see the turtles swimming in the fountain, to gaze out at the stars.  God created a wonderful, beautiful world.  You don’t have to earn it.  You already have it.  It’s yours, all the fabulous beauty in the world, for you to behold and enjoy.  God gave you eyes to see His creation, and ears to hear the music of His nature.  It’s good; it’s very good.  And it’s OK to enjoy it.  How many times does God say to rest, trust, consider, watch – these are admonitions to slow down, calm down, stop working so hard.  Didn’t Jesus chide Martha for busting her ass in the kitchen instead of listening to Him?  It’s OK to relax.  You can work so hard that you miss all of it, and before you know it, you’re a bitter, aging  man like me.  The world was made for us, not us for the world.  The Sabbath day of rest was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath.  It’s important enough to make the top ten commandments.  Peace, not stress, is the fruit of the Spirit.  It’s OK to take breaks.  It’s OK to leave a project unfinished.  It’s OK to just be still and feel God’s presence.  It’s OK to just… exist…

-Mark

 

The Old and New Testament

A couple of weeks ago, my wife was having an on-line conversation with someone.  She said, We’re not under the law any more.  They said, What, so we don’t have to follow the Ten Commandments any more?

This is a typical point of confusion.  What most people fail to do is differentiate between morality and ritual.  God’s position on morality has never changed (with the possible exception of incest).  It is still wrong to kill, steal, fornicate, etc.  But, there were a number of rituals that the Old Testament commanded the Jews to observe that no longer apply.  Why?

Just about everything in the Old Testament was a prophecy about Jesus.  The Jews were instructed to sacrifice a lamb so the lamb’s blood would cover the sins of the people.  Now that God has given His own lamb, Jesus, there’s no reason to continue with the ritual.  It’s like watching the movie preview, after the move.  What’s the point?

Besides the animal sacrifices (a picture of an innocent life being lost so that sinful people could live), there are a number of feasts in the Old Testament.  The feast of booths, where Jews would spend a few days living in a leaf-covered outdoor structure, told of Jesus’ birth in a manger.  The feast of lots, where Queen Esther intervened and prevented a mass slaughter of the Jews, foretold how one person (Jesus) would come and once again save people from certain doom.  There’s only one feast, the Feast of Trumpets, that still has to be fulfilled, as I believe it points to the time when the trumpets shall sound in Heaven and usher in God’s final judgments and the return of Jesus to the Earth.

As far as incest is concerned, well, look at it this way.  Why is it bad to have kids with your sister?  Beside just being gross, it’s because your DNA matches closely, so all of the bad mutations are passed on to the children.  Adam and Eve were genetically perfect.  Before they fell into Satan’s trap, and sin entered the world, no genetic mutations occurred.  Now, thousands of years later, mutations abound.  Think of it this way – at our best, we’re all a bunch of inbred retards…

The point is, those of us who have accepted Jesus as our Lord and Savior, have the wonderful blessing of living under grace; every sin, past, present and future, is covered.  We don’t have to live outdoors once a year, or observe Passover (not that we shouldn’t, but we don’t HAVE to), but we can live each day knowing that we’ll never be in danger of hellfire.  When this life is over, only our membership in God’s family will matter, and not whether or not we missed a Sunday service…

Depression: an analysis

I’ve been battling depression for as long as I can remember.  I have gone to shrinks, taken vitamins, prescription drugs, tried all kinds of things over the years.  But what is it that makes someone (me) depressed?

Life isn’t fair: When I was young I was taught to stay in line, wait my turn, obey the rules and finish my work.  Up through the third grade or so, that worked out great for me.  The teachers found out I was smart, I was teacher’s pet in all of my classes, and I got rewarded for good behavior.  But around the fourth grade or so, bullies started popping up.  I was physically tormented, verbally assaulted and threatened by one bully or another, all the way into high school, so much so that I had drawn out revenge plans on how I was some day going to find them and kill them.  I never fought back.  Bullies cut in line and get to go first, have no remorse, no guilt at all, and even when confronted say it’s all just part of growing up, helps kids toughen up.  And guess what – they get their food before I do.

It still happens, you know.  I get bullied in traffic all the time.  What do I get for obeying the law, waiting for the light to turn green, while others cut through the parking lot?  They end up way ahead of me, and never get caught.  And if I know the left lane ends up ahead, I’ll stay in the right lane, and there’s ALWAYS a big truck that races down the left lane and shoves his way in front of me at the last minute.  I drive a short car and bullies in big trucks act like I don’t exist; I’ve been run off of the road several times, literally, and what reward do I get?  What reward comes from having no tickets on my record, always obeying the speed limit, getting passed left and right, never EVER seeing someone else get caught?  Cheaper car insurance.  Big whoop.  The bullies get to drive faster than me, they beat me, outrun me, and look like they’re having fun while I suffer.

The same thing happened in school, and at work.  What reward do I get for finishing my work?  A paycheck and a mediocre review.  Some time around the fourth grade, work started to get tough, I started to get pushed, taking advanced classes, doing homework for hours every night, all kinds of extra credit, so I could get an “A+” while kids all around me were having fun, forgetting their homework, getting B’s in normal classes while I was being depressed, watching my life go by.  In order to be successful and maintain the ultra-high expectations that everyone had for me, and still do, extra credit is required.  And it’s not fair.  Life is not fair.  I should be able to just do my job, which I’m very good at, and go home & relax, but if I don’t meet my “stretch goals” I’ll get a poor review.  That means doing the same thing I’ve always done – bust my ass to make everyone happy, which means long hours or weekends.  I’m still doing “extra credit” while people all around me are having fun.  If it’s not job-work, then it’s home-work: remodel the kitchen, fix the car, build a fence, build a deck; I try & try & try to make everyone happy, and just because I CAN do something, I feel that I HAVE to.

So that’s one thing: life isn’t fair.  When I stop working and look around, I get jealous of the guys with boats & new cars & fancy houses.  I know they’re in debt, and I’m not, but that’s not much consolation when I’m busting my butt replacing my air compressor and the neighbor drives by towing his new boat with his new SUV, out for another fun day at the lake.  It just seems like with all of my hard work and dedication, I DESERVE a new car, for instance, but I don’t get one because I’ve already spent the money on gifts for my wife – mostly appliances or fixtures for the house – or on supporting my kids or whatever.  I have an excellent credit score, but like I said, that’s not much consolation.

Life is too hard: I start way too many projects, and I am feeling incredibly overwhelmed.  It always takes four times longer to do something than I think it will.  I’ve got requests & plans stacked up so high that if I was somehow able to quit my job & spend 40 hours a week on projects, I would never, ever finish.  In fact, it’s sad, because by the time I reach the end of one project, the last project is already deteriorating and needs to be redone again.  Now with four kids and two grandchildren and the job and all the projects and bills and work that has to be done (by me, because if I don’t do it, it just won’t get done), I’m totally buried.  Just maintaining what I’ve already got takes all of my spare time.  Car maintenance, pool maintenance, home repairs and the yard use up the 5% of energy that I have after a stressful day at work.

I don’t know how some people seem to always have time on their hands.  They come home, kiss their wife and have a beer, watch TV and wait for dinner.  Maybe my wife doesn’t cook that often, but it’s not her, it’s me.  I feel guilty if I sit down.  I come home and get attacked by the dog, kids and wife, all wanting attention, and as I look around, projects are screaming at me for attention too.  It’s just too hard; there’s not enough of me to go around.  Life, I suppose, was not meant to be easy.  Life is hard.  It’s hard to wake up at 4:30 am.  It’s hard to keep a car running and shiny.  It’s hard to install cabinets or stain concrete.  It’s hard to make progress, get to the finish line while I feel like I’m walking through molasses.  It’s hard to maintain the image everyone has of me that I can build or fix anything.

Life started to get hard in the fourth grade, and it hasn’t stopped since.  I truly wonder if other people are as relaxed and happy as they seem.  My life is incredibly hard, and when I try to make a list or plan out how I’m going to get everything done, it’s depressing.  There’s never anything left over; never any free time, unless I choose to sit on my butt and let the weeds grow.  It is very depressing, for me, because I put myself dead last on the list.  I always figure that if I work hard enough, I’ll finish, and then I can relax.  Well, it’s been decades, I never finish, and as soon as I start to take a break and someone can see that I have some time, they ask for something.  And since I never say no, I either do it right then, say no & feel guilty and do it right then anyway, or put it in my planner, adding it to the dozen or so undone check-list items on my to-do list.

Life is too short: Having watched my youth slip away as I spent most of it working myself to death, I’m almost 50, and having given away any extra money that I ever got instead of saving it, I have less than one year’s salary saved up for retirement.  I don’t think you could call my life fun when I was in school, because I rarely did anything but work.  Even being on the baseball team got to be a source of stress that the other kids depended on me so much, and I quit.  In fact, anything you can define as “fun” I’ve quit.  I don’t play tennis, even though I love it.  I don’t play music even though it’s been a lifelong dream of mine to be a successful musician.  I’ve even given up on ever being able to start my own business, due to a long, long series of failures, from multi-level marketing to software development to masonry work; if I’m going to have a ghost of a chance at living past 65, it’s going to have to be on a company pension.

Five years ago I really threw in the towel.  I was a contractor with big dreams of somehow making it big.  The teachers were always so impressed by me, I thought I could come up with something on my own, an invention, that fame & wealth would follow me and I’d be my own boss.  But it didn’t work out that way.  Part of it is health insurance, but five years ago I gave up the I-can-quit-any-time role of a contract employee for the I-am-chained-to-my-cube-for-the-next-20-years role of a direct hire.  Sure, the benefits are great, the insurance is great, the salary is great (as long as I keep over-achieving like everyone expects me to), but I have no hope of ever becoming anything more than a dad with a job and several demanding “hobbies”, or more accurately, do-it-myself projects.

So what am I working towards?  I’ll retire in 15 years, the house will be paid off, I’ll start pulling a pension, and I’ll be a hunched-over sad little man, showing the scars of a long life of stress and tension on my wrinkled gray head.  Then what?  I will finally, finally have the free time that I’ve craved and lusted for, and it’ll be too late.  I’ll be old and if nothing changes, in very ill health.  I won’t be able to do anything else but shuffle to the mailbox or pull myself into the hover-chair by my bed.  Life is too short.  You work your butt off to save money or earn a pension so you can retire when you’re weak and frail and can’t pursue any of your dreams anyway, and then you die.

Nobody loves me: This goes back to the extra-credit thing.  You know, I love my wife dearly, and my kids too, but in order to get someone’s attention I have to either harm myself or perform like a circus monkey going above and beyond everyone’s expectations.  I’ve done both.  See the section on my struggle with alcohol for “proof” of the self-harm thing.  (Get it? Proof, like the 80-proof whiskey bottles I have in my room.  Ha. Ha. Ha.)  As I’ve grown older, it’s become harder and harder to “top” my last performance.  People get accustomed to my level of achievement, and not only that, but to my INCREASE in achievement, and are not impressed unless what I do today is bigger and better than what I did yesterday, or better than they could possibly imagine.

What makes a person feel loved?   It’s when someone gives you something without you having to ask.  It’s when someone notices you’re depressed and gives you a hug.  It’s when someone strokes you and says everything is going to be all right, or compliments you or says something nice.  It’s when you get something without having to PAY for it.  I can’t stop myself from paying; I go the extra mile, I do the extra credit, I try to look at the world through other people’s eyes and see exactly what they want & try to give it to them, but I don’t get the attention and affection.  It doesn’t work that way.

The only people that “love” me are my parents, and they don’t count.  I know, I’m lucky to have them, and they would do anything for me, but I have my own kids, I know what that kind of love is.  But I’m married; I’m supposed to be unconditionally loved 24/7, but I’m not.  I know, she says she loves me, all the time, but she never DOES anything about it.  Never, ever for free.  It’s very aggravating.  If I want a hug I have to ask, or behave the right way, or be in the right mood; if I want anything more, then there’s a list of a dozen things that have to all line up for a minimum of 24 hours.  And then I look at the kids; I have two, unmarried children, and they have more sex in a week than I do in a year.

The bottom line: To sum all of this up, I am depressed because I feel like I deserve more than I’m getting, and I’m jealous of others who are breaking the rules and getting all the things that I long for.  I play fair, I try to make everyone happy, I give until I’m broke, I work until I collapse, I drive my 350 horsepower Camaro like it was a family sedan, never cut anyone off, have no tickets on my record, I tithe, I pay my bills on time, I do anything and everything that anyone at work or home asks of me, and I get a nod of approval for all of my efforts.  Never a bonus.  Never more than a “good job, now can you…” from anyone in this world.  No matter how hard I try, no matter how much work I do, still trying to follow the simple rules from elementary school, staying in line, waiting my turn, which never ever ever ever ever ever comes because I let everyone in the world step in front of me.

The truth: In reality, I don’t deserve any of those things.  If I got what I deserved, I would be eternally burning in a lake of fire.  My perspective is all wrong; God sent Jesus to die, He paid an extremely high price to redeem me & save me from the flames, and I have enjoyed peace and grace ever since I decided to trust Him.  I don’t deserve to break the law and speed around in my hot rod.  Jesus said we should obey the magistrates and they that have authority over us, and that was during a time that Jerusalem was being ruled by a malevolent, vile dictator.  Much less the cops who are actually (usually) enforcing the law without malice.  I will be content with what I have, because He will never leave me or forsake me.  That’s in the Bible somewhere, too.  I am blessed beyond measure in just having my salvation, and His Word, and the assurance that He will take care of me, no matter what.  Even if I spend an entire weekend drowning in whiskey, He may not be pleased, but He will never cast me out.  Just like my kids; sure, I’ll get mad, but they’ll always be my kids and I’ll always love them.  There is nothing they could ever do to NOT be my children, and that includes the one I adopted.

The solution: Putting this into practice is the part I have a hard time with.  When I’m jealous of some fancy new car, I need to remember how blessed I am to not have a car payment, and how nice my car is compared to the old rust-buckets that I used to have, and if Christ wants me to have a new car, then some day I will.  When someone bullies me in traffic, I have to remember that I’m following Christ, not my own path, I’m driving like I care about other people, and I don’t have to keep looking out for cops so I can try & slow down at the last second before they catch me.  I can feel sorry for someone who thinks he has to prove his worth by beating everyone to the red light.  And when I’m overwhelmed and stressed out, I need to stop & pray, be still and know that God is ultimately in control.  I need to yield and let Him work through me; then if the house looks like crap, it’s all His fault 🙂

Easier said than done, that’s for sure.  It’s so easy to forget that Jesus is the answer to every single problem there is.  Every time I find myself frustrated, I realize I’m not trusting God to do it, but working my butt off to do it in my own strength.  Every time I catch myself being jealous, I’m forgetting who He is and how He saved me and provides for me and how much I have, not just in money and posessions but in love and acceptance.  And when I need attention and my wife is ignoring me, I need to remember how much I love her and let her know how beautiful she is and how lucky I am to have her.

I really wouldn’t want to switch lives with anyone else.  If I really think about it, my life isn’t perfect, but I wouldn’t want to give up what I have – my wife, my kids, my home, my family – just so I can be a jerk with more stuff and shallow relationships.  I’m good.  As is.

I wrote a book!


Front Cover

A funny, inspirational story of growing up in America, finding God (or being found BY Him), written by yours truly! Replete with humor and honest insight…  

Into the Cross-Walk, by BIC (actually Bic is just my
pen-name; my real name is Mark).

 

Available in the
following formats:

Paperback at Amazon

Amazon Kindle

Paperback at Barnes & Noble

Nook ebook

Download a sample chapter here (pdf) or view here (as a web site)

About me:

Mark graduated in the top 1% of his 5A high school class, is a certified ASE mechanic, and once held a medical degree before the doctor told him to put it back on the wall. Mark is a devout born-again Christian who has perfected his own recipes for home-brewed coffee and all-grain beer, and has been playing the bass guitar since 1984. Besides writing, he is an avid programmer, a dog lover, has a really cool car and likes to start lots of interesting hobbies, and then abandon them. Mark’s an interesting guy, if a little crazy…