Beauty In The Struggle

Some of my favorite movies, my favorite books are those that have a protagonist struggling against all odds, getting battered and beaten at just about every turn, only to finally succeed in the end. It’s gut-wrenching. As a viewer or reader, you wonder, ‘How much longer can this go on? Is there any relief in sight?’

I think of Chris and Gordy in the movie, Stand By Me. Two twelve year old kids, the underdogs. Chris comes from a family of trouble makers. He isn’t given much of a chance by his teachers or the system. Gordy comes from a family in which his older brother, the “good and smart son” the “athlete and popular son” dies. His parents can’t get over it and have no time for Gordy, clearly their least favorite of the two.

Of course, there’s Rocky. A second-rate boxer gets his chance at the champion. I’m not a particular fan of boxing or boxing movies, but who cannot watch and hope that this guy bucks the odds and wins the title fight of his life.

In my own writing in the Lives Trilogy, Brett and George rise above all that is presented to them. Abduction. Trafficking. Murder. And yet, they somehow make it. They somehow survive. They somehow rise above, and through it all, there is faith and hope and love.

Many of us just watched March Madness. Sixty-four or so teams competing in a tournament that lasts weeks, culminating with a game between the final two teams. And in that game, the clear underdog ends up winning at the buzzer. If it was a book or a movie, it wouldn’t get written or get sold because those who do the selecting and who make the decisions would have deemed it too predictable. Yet, it happened.

There is a story about a well-meaning mother who saw a butterfly struggling to get out of a cocoon.  The mother, as I said was well-meaning, so she decided to help the butterfly by opening up the cocoon so that the struggle would be less.  When the butterfly broke free, it ended up not being able to fly and in a short time, died.  What this mother didn’t know, unfortunately, was that through the struggle to get out of the cocoon, the butterfly’s wings would become strong enough to fly on its own.  The mother was just trying to help.

Just trying to help . . .

I think we’ve all been in situations where we watch an individual, perhaps our children or a loved one, struggle and strain, and we want to jump in to the rescue. We want to point out that, “If you do it this way . . .” or “I did the same thing when I was your age and . . .”

It’s hard to stand by and watch someone struggle. So very hard. It’s harder when we watch someone compete and lose, over and over. And then at the last, when that someone, a child or loved one, succeeds and wins, we rejoice.

Life can be pretty darn hard. Some have it easier or harder than others. That’s sometimes the way it goes. Not necessarily a rhyme or a reason for it. It just happens. Some of us have been on the receiving end of easy, while others of us, perhaps more of us, are on the receiving end of hard.

Yet, I have to sometimes remind myself, and others, that there is Beauty In The Struggle.

As much as we sometimes hate it, as much as we sometimes are impatient for it to end, and as often as we might struggle and fail . . . or succeed . . . there is Beauty In The Struggle.

It doesn’t pay to be like the woman who tried to help the butterfly get out of the cocoon, because there is nothing gained in that. As well-meaning as she was, as good-hearted as she was, she ultimately failed because the butterfly was not able to gain the strength out of the struggle to survive on its own.

As I’ve said many times in my posts, we’re all in this together. Each of us struggle with failure. Each of us struggle against the odds. Each of us runs into and up against the brick wall. So if we recognize that, we can encourage and support each other. We can lend a hand when and where it is appropriate to do so. But ultimately, we gain the most when we face that struggle and recognize that there is Beauty In The Struggle. Always, there is Beauty In The Struggle.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

To My Readers:

I received one of the nicest comments about my books in the Lives Trilogy. She wrote:

“Some of the most amazing books I have read in a long time. As soon as you start then you are fully addicted and brought into this amazing story. Must read by Joseph Lewis. I never wanted mine to end but yet couldn't put them down.”

If you like thriller-mystery-suspense fiction, you can find them on Amazon in both eBook and paperback, free with Kindle Unlimited:

Stolen Lives, Book One http://tinyurl.com/Stolen-Lives-J-Lewis

Shattered Lives, Book Two http://tinyurl.com/Shattered-Lives-J-Lewis

Splintered Lives, Book Three http://tinyurl.com/Splintered-Lives-J-Lewis

Taking Lives, Prequel to the Lives Trilogy http://tinyurl.com/Taking-Lives-J-Lewis

Waging A War

Waging A War is destructive.

Duh, right?

I graduated from high school in 1972 and our country was in the midst of the Vietnam War. There was political upheaval over whether or not we should have been involved in the first place. I remember that it was the first televised war. The network news showed battles raging and reported losses on the six o’clock news. The war brought about conflict between the right and the left and between hawks and doves. There were even battles that were waged within households.

My brother, Jim, served, and it was tense for us. I was eighteen and my draft number was 25. I was scared. By all rights, I should have been drafted but I was exempted due to allergies and asthma. It was a scary time all around, and not just for me.

War destroys. War destroys homes and property. Countries are at odds and torn apart from within and from without.

War destroys people. People die. People get hurt. Families are torn apart. There is civilian loss- collateral damage, I guess is the political, sanitized term that is used.

And after all of that, there is the War in the mind. Men and women who cannot make sense of it all, who cannot come to terms with it.  

But I want to talk about a different kind of War. I want to talk about a type of War that harms us, not so much from without as much as it comes from within.  I think each of us Wages A War with ourselves.

We consider ourselves unworthy. We consider ourselves not good enough. We consider ourselves unlovable and much to our detriment, unworthy of love. And as a result, we don’t, forgive ourselves . . . perhaps cannot forgive ourselves.

We dwell on past failures and use these failures as the measuring stick by which we live our lives. We look back and consider all the things that were done to us, all the things that we did to ourselves or to others, all the things we should have done or shouldn’t have done for ourselves or for others.

We become enslaved by our thoughts and each word, each action is a result of the War we Wage on ourselves.

Perhaps it’s time to take a cease fire and consider that we don’t need to measure our lives by what we’ve done or said or not done or not said in the past. Perhaps it’s time to admit that who we once were is not who we are right now. Perhaps it’s time to move out of the past and into the present, and with an eye on the future. Because it is only by moving from the past to the present that we can truly live in the future. In essence, move on!

When I deal with kids who have been in trouble, I usually tell them that once the door opens, life goes on. I consider the matter, no matter what it was, over and done. A mistake was made and we learn from it and then we move on.

So, why is it so hard to make that admission to ourselves? Why is it so hard to admit a mistake was made, that we need to learn from it and then move on from it? Why do we continue to use that mistake to harm or injure ourselves and continue Waging A War with ourselves- much to our own detriment? Hmmm . . . something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

To My Readers:

If you like thriller and mystery fiction, please check out these four books. Each come with excellent ratings from those who have read them.

Book One, Stolen Lives:

Two thirteen year old boys are abducted off a safe suburban street. Kelliher and his team of FBI agents have 24 hours to find them or they’ll end up like all the others- dead! They have no leads, no clues, and nothing to go on. And the possibility exists that one of his team members might be involved.

http://tinyurl.com/Stolen-Lives-J-Lewis  

Book Two, Shattered Lives:

Six men escaped and are out for revenge. The boys, recently freed from captivity, are in danger and so are their families, but they don’t know it. The FBI has no clues, no leads, and nothing to go on and because of that, cannot protect them.

http://tinyurl.com/Shattered-Lives-J-Lewis  

Book Three, Splintered Lives:

It began in Arizona and it ends in Arizona- in death. A 14 year old boy has a price on his head, but he and his family don’t know it. Their vacation turns into a trip to hell. Out gunned and outnumbered, can this boy protect his father and brothers? Without knowing who these men are? Or how many there are? Or when they might come for him?

http://tinyurl.com/Splintered-Lives-J-Lewis  

Lives Trilogy Prequel, Taking Lives:

FBI Agent Pete Kelliher and his partner search for the clues behind the bodies of six boys left in various and remote parts of the country. Even though they don’t know one another, the lives of FBI Kelliher, 11 year old Brett McGovern, and 11 year old George Tokay are separate pieces of a puzzle. The two boys become interwoven with the same thread that Pete Kelliher holds in his hand. The three of them are on a collision course and when that happens, their lives are in jeopardy as each search for a way out.

http://tinyurl.com/Taking-Lives-J-Lewis

Two Pieces Of Chocolate

In my writing, I spend quite a bit of time on the need for giving back, on the need for making a positive difference in the lives of others thereby making our own lives better and more meaningful. Constant themes in my writing are lending a helping hand because we’re all in this together . . . you and I . . . all of us. I speak of hope and instilling that hope in the lives of those around us, especially kids because that generation needs to feel and experience hope in order to bring about change and help make this world better.

In my fiction writing, The Lives Trilogy, a constant theme is survival, of hope, of love and of support, of belonging and rising above those roadblocks that are found in the way. I think that’s why the readers have singled out George and Brett as favorites because time and again, despite what life gave them, they rose above, they survived, and they found hope and love and helped others along the way.

That leads me to Two Pieces Of Chocolate.

Francine Christophe was eight years old when she and her mother were forced to go to Bergen-Belsen with many other Jews. As she explained, children were allowed to take something with them to camp. Not much, mind you, but something. Some chose a bit of rice or flour. Francine’s mother chose Two Pieces Of Chocolate and as her mother explained to her, they would be eaten only when Francine wasn’t feeling well or when she had a tough day.

Now I’m thinking, ‘Was there any good day at a Nazi death camp?’ Evidently, there was.

You see, there was a woman at the camp who was pregnant. She was so malnourished that she didn’t look pregnant. To look at her, one couldn’t tell. But the day came and this woman, with the help of Francine’s mother, gave birth to a baby girl. Perhaps a little joy in an otherwise ugly and dark place.

Francine’s mother came to her and asked Francine how she was doing. Francine answered fine, okay. Francine’s mother asked her if she could give the Two Pieces Of Chocolate to the new mother explaining, “She might die otherwise.” Eight year old Francine gave her mother permission to do so. At eight years old!

Flash forward many, many years . . .

Francine is now an elderly woman. She is one of the speakers at a symposium on surviving the death camp and what it took to do so. And how doctors, lawyers, therapists might help those who survive these god-awful events come to peace and survive emotionally.

A young woman, a doctor, gets up and goes to the podium. She begins by saying that she has something for Francine, and holds out a Piece Of Chocolate. You see, she was the baby born at Bergen-Belsen.

The entire story is inspiring and captivating and worth the couple of minutes it takes to view it. It can be found at:

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10209684727580724&id=1405839989

This is yet another example of giving and not expecting any reward or return. This is yet another example of making a positive difference in the life of another.

I’ve written many times about growing up next to a river. As kids, we’d through rocks or stones into it to see who could toss it the furthest. We’d watch the ripples as they spread out and touch the shore. One after another, almost continuous.

You see, I am convinced that like the stone tossed in the river, the positive things we say or do cause ripples in the universe and they touch lives. These ripples can make a difference in the lives of others . . . positively. The kind word we speak. The smile we give. The hand we extend. Our presence and support in another’s life in a moment of doubt or despair.

Sometimes we might never know how that ripple affected the life of another. But sometimes, perhaps, maybe, we might get a return on that investment in time, just as Francine did so many years later. Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

To My Readers:

Catch up with the lives of Brett and George in the Lives Trilogy and Prequel found at:

Lives Trilogy Prequel, Taking Lives http://tinyurl.com/Taking-Lives-J-Lewis

Stolen Lives, Book One of the Lives Trilogy http://tinyurl.com/Stolen-Lives-J-Lewis

Shattered Lives, Book Two of the Lives Trilogy http://tinyurl.com/Shattered-Lives-J-Lewis

Splintered Lives, Book Three of the Lives Trilogy http://tinyurl.com/Splintered-Lives-J-Lewis

Thanks,

JL