Photo Blog of The Fifth Commandment

Peter's Denial, Carl Heinrich Bloch (1834-1890 Danish),

 National History Museum, Frederiksborg Castle

Thought I'd share a few photos about my newest short work titled The Fifth Commandment.

Wikipedia-(New Panama City)

Much of my story is a recollection of old Panama in Central America, which touched my heart as a family friendly, peaceful but humble town across from new Panama City which is full of skyscrapers, restaurants and fast cars.

This breathtaking altar has quite a story
 of it's own involving a Welsh pirate.

 Huge bridges, highways and giant expanses of water separate the old from the new and it almost seems like there’s a time warp of a hundred years between the two areas. 

My pictures are from the old section as described by my character, Christina. 

I loved the serenity in the French Plaza

If you like faith-based stories then click here now.

Even my own dishes inspired me....

but most of the story came to me in my dreams.

Have you ever denied someone you loved?

Will My Character believe Christina's Story?

    My nervous character, Father Joe, suddenly feels insecure around two well-known and honorable men of the cloth affiliated with the Basilica in Chicago. They arrived on his invitation to deal with a young girl named Christina who could potentially cause trouble. All of it is giving him nightmares! Here's an excerpt taking place as Father Joe picks them up at the station:

From Chapter 10 of The Fifth Commandment

On sale September 24th thru the 30th

 “Hey, how was the trip?” Father Joe started the car. It was a beige Volvo with 259,000 miles on the odometer. 

     “Fine, except we were a bit rushed due to traffic.” Trying to keep their anxious excitement to a minimum, they continued with small talk about the weather and the train amenities. “How about you?  Anything new since last night?”

   He chocked the vision of Jesus on the side of the church to shadows playing with his mind—but later that evening he had a powerful dream. “Not really, but I’m feeling strange about this whole thing. Our little parish can’t handle the publicity. Imagine what would happen if this leaked out?” He turned on the blinkers and turned into the church parking lot. “Don’t you remember what happened in Medugorje?  Thousands flocked to the tiny village….”

     “Yeah, we remember, Joe” Father George interrupted. “I’ve been there.”

     Father Andrew laughed, “Heck people even pay big money on EBAY for granola clusters shaped like Moses holding stone tablets.”

     “I guess I’m just worried about my generous parishioners. I don’t want anyone taking advantage of their kindness,” Father Joe said as he led the way into his office. “Besides, I had a horrible dream last night.”

“You saw St. Peter?” Andrew quipped.

Father George laughed. “No,” Father Joe explained. “It was us in purgatory. Sadly, I think Christina was there too.”

“Oooh, tell us more,” they smiled and followed each other inside.

“I will, but hold on for a second. There’s a lot going on.”

     “Well, to be perfectly honest with you Joe, I’m kind of excited.” Father Andrew said, searching the room for a plug for his tape-recorder. “Don’t worry, this won’t be another Fatima for goodness sake, have some faith. This is probably the most exciting thing to happen in Normal, Illinois. It could be the economic boost this area needs right now.”

     The office lights were off. Father Joe went to the window first, opening the blinds. It was ten minutes after four. Then he stood up, walked back towards the door and turned on the overhead lights before sitting down at his desk.

“Now, tell us about your dream, Joe.” Father Andrew always loved tales of intrigue.

     “Wasn’t she supposed to be here at four?” Father George asked, as he took his place on the foldout chair.

     “Don’t worry, any teenager wanting as much attention as she does will be here.” He shuffled more bulletins and decided to tell them about his dream while waiting. “Drink anyone?” Father Joe needed one, but waited for them to gently decline. He enjoyed their company, but thought they were a wee bit pedantic. The scholars he knew weren’t as serious as these two and all his friends in school drank wine and scotch like giant beluga whales being released from captivity. They were bigger actors than Christina--all a bunch of phonies. Didn’t they see this hoax for what it really was? He took it to be a young girl’s desperate cry for attention. Why did they need to drag this out for almost a week now? Didn’t they have better things to do than hang out in his parish?

Will Father Joe come to believe Christina's unusual story?

Want to hear about his dream?

Then click here to order your copy of The Fifth Commandment today!

Lying Monkeys

Wikisource

It starts out innocent enough, beginning with a lie and ending in a quagmire of polluted runoff. In some ways, due to our cultural mores, we’re all guilty and perhaps the best way to change our future is to be aware of our flaws. Remember the Aesop fable about the Monkey and the Dolphin? When the ship sinks and the dolphin comes to rescue the drowning monkey you’d think the monkey would be humble but instead tells a bold-faced lie to the dolphin and ends up in deep trouble, thus the moral of the story is: don't tell lies. 

 I unintentionally practice lying on my dogs. “Sure, you go outside for a few minutes and I’ll give you a snack.” An hour later, they wonder where the snacks are and they look at me as if they don’t trust me anymore. When I go somewhere, I tell them I’ll be back soon, even if it’s hours and hours later. They know when I’m lying. I’d make a horrid politician. We can’t help it. Lying is part of life and yes, even honest, churchgoing angels have complimented the inedible church casserole or the funny looking little bundle of joy. There are no ugly babies, right?

After a while, we begin to believe the lies. Soon we’re immune to our friend’s lies and we accept their lies as sweet-talk wrapped around kindness. We call them white lies.

“My butt is curvy, not fat.” (Sentiment shared by a famous reality show star.)

“He loved my book.” (A very short review-probably didn’t finish reading the entire book)

“Nutella is made of nuts. It’s good for you.”(I’ll never dispute this.)

“We have unbiased reporting.” (Really? Media equivalent of a used Yugo salesperson saying, ‘trust me’.)

“You paint better than Monet.”(Overly friendly and slightly suspicious assessment of your first painting.)

“That color looks good on me—sometimes.” (Probably never.)

“Mohair sweaters don’t itch.”(Said, the holiday-help at the department store.)

“That’s a nice hairstyle.” (Is it? From which angle?)

“I thought my emails are private.” (And you believe in Santa?)

“I did a lot of research before buying that lemon.” (Auto ads don’t count as research.)

“Bacon is better for you than fruit. Think of all the sugar in that fruit.”(Proteins and fruit carbs are both necessary and this argument can go on for hours—believe what you want to believe.)

“You sing better than Adele and Mariah rolled into one.” (I was told Celine, but okay.)

“These pants look good.” (Sorry, they don’t look good in any light—okay, maybe in the dark-pitch dark.)

Recently, we’ve heard some doozies such as the finger-pointing Senator who said small hands meant another body part is also small. Uglier still was the other candidate retorting and oversharing, as if it mattered to the world.

Don’t elected officials know that there are much worse things to worry about than their personal image issues? Who are they lying to anyway? Lest we forget, even the rescued monkey had to lie!!! By the time November rolls around, I’m afraid voters will have collective trust anxiety, exactly like my two skeptical Chihuahuas!

It's Never Too Late for Love

To the dad not paying child support-

You might think it’s cool now

but some day,

maybe twenty years from now

when the respirator is acting up--

you'll want to explain why....

Can someone listen to your excuse?

You try ringing for the nurse--

but it’s midnight and she’s helping

another patient behind a curtain with a bed pan....

To the person who shoots innocent people--

Maybe you’ve lost your mind or took drugs

but think about twenty,  thirty, maybe fifty years from now

When you walk out of the cell looking for someone to talk to

and no one is waiting.

Disconnected phones-

lost addresses-

where to go?

Nothing but parole officers and salespeople asking you to sign things

promising you won’t go far-- 

while they ask for your last dollar.

To those who poke fun and tease the weak,

Bullies who think they’re better,

Wise, hip and fashionable

while looking down their nose,

lifting arrogant heads,

disgusted with what they call ignorance.

Selfish and repulsive narcissistic individuals who hate-- 

and have no time--

believe in nothing--

And laugh at others who do.

Maybe someday--

God willing--

Twenty years from now

While standing in line at the pharmacy,

Or while thinking about who to invite--

for the A list is short--

perhaps someday...

they'll find a change of heart. 

To thieves, prostitutes and the rest of those waiting for hell---

 (you think that's a place of legends and fairy-tales but...

time creates change--)

Why wait?

There are options.

It’s never too late.

Positive Energy

I've been thinking about energy lately. The kind of energy that unites souls. Some people call it animal magnetism or auras but I think there’s more to it than that. Besides, animal magnetism doesn't really apply to heterosexual, same-sex friends, does it?

Perhaps our greatest human strength is not physical.

Think about the last time you sat in a car and stared into another car. Did the passenger or driver look back? Coincidence right? Maybe not. Maybe it’s your energy? Are we ready to acknowledge our innate wireless connections? Have you ever showed up at someone’s house only to be told they are so glad you came and they were just about to call you and invite you over? Maybe you got there just in time to cheer them up or save them from a house fire because you noticed they left the stove on.

While quantum physicists are explaining their theories regarding atomic connected-ness, I’m thinking about it all the time. I don’t need the theory of relativity to tell me we’re related.

I remember Christmas shopping in a store that gave me bad vibes. By the time I left, I had accidentally cut myself on the sharp-edged counter and was bleeding profusely. Was it something they sold? Was it the building? Was it the people who worked there? Why did I feel so uncomfortable and why did I end up punished in a sense, for not liking their store? Sure, it seems silly to take it personally and yet there was a definite feeling hanging over my shoulders, making me feel like I wasn't welcome.

My husband is a real estate broker and has shown me many, many resale homes where I immediately sensed either a negative vibe or a positive ambiance. This has nothing to do with cleanliness or staging a home. When I walk into a home, I often feel there were huge arguments or perhaps painful interactions that might have taken place. I can be in a sunny, upbeat mood and feel like a dark cloud has landed on my head. Heading for the door, I wonder if the house will ever sell. Of course, I've been in happy homes where happy families lived and typically, I've wanted to linger. Isn't it strange how we leave behind these energy fields and how can we prevent them from seeping into the foundation?

While USA Today called Sedona, Arizona the most beautiful place in America, others say it’s a place of concentrated energy. A place where spiritual powers feel enhanced from what the New Age crowd calls a vortex and others say it’s just our own personal reaction to extraordinary beauty. A vortex is something that swirls like a whirlpool and takes place in water, fire and even lava. Like dust or snow flurries, they settle down after a while, unless it’s invisible like energy. The invisible part makes scientists dispute the energy claims of Sedona because it’s not very easy to prove and scientists love having proof. All I know is that my fancy Swiss watch had a new battery when I went to Sedona, and once there, it stopped running. 

Home to many different tribes--such as Hopi, Apache and Anasazi-- could the collective energies of their families, their prayers have seeped into the red stone monoliths to create a kind of outdoor cathedral uniting tourists and local believers?

We've all heard of the power of positive thinking and the laws of abundance but what are the consequences of the opposite? With so many negative things going on in the world, is there something we can do to create positive energy? Every word, maybe every thought alters the universe. Maybe our inner strength can end violence, create peace and end war? 

My Secret Obsessive Confession

I have a little Irish secret I've never told anyone. Well okay, I told the tile guy but he had no idea what I was talking about. ...You see I’m a huge fan of Maureen O’ Hara in all her movies but the way she acts in The Quiet Man with John Wayne reminds me of well—let’s just say it hits close to home. So anyway, my secret admission has to do with her Irish accent. I love her accent so much that when it comes to repeating the longest prayer in church I try using her inflections in my voice and mimicking my memory of her vowels and diphthongs. Crazy huh? Standing next to me is my tough guy who hasn't noticed either, and unless someone squeals, my secret is safe. Right? Stranger still... his favorite movie is How Green Was My Valley, also with Maureen O’ Hara.

 Do you think this is certifiable or just plain silly? Can you relate?  Do movies make us do things we shouldn't do? Am I a victim of some sort of retro Hollywood adorableness?

Happy St. Patrick’s Day everyone!