The Notebook: A Life Lesson

The Notebook: A Life Lesson

by: Ronovan


“Hey, Ron, check out that box over there and see what we can get rid of,” said Chet.


I pulled the box to me and began going through the sweaters, magazines and umbrellas. I wondered how people could lose so many things in a church and just not think of what happened to them.


The Bible was beautiful. I opened it and saw the name, Orthel Hopkins. I shook my head. His mother should have been looking for this already. Or maybe he had been hiding something else in his Bible cover so she didn’t know yet. I set it aside and would sneak it to him another time.

Read. The word jumped out at me. It was my hand writing. It looked like one of my notebooks. But why was it here?

“. . . had a great time and posted some fun vacation pictures for you. . .”

“Chet, I’ll be back later.” I didn’t wait for an answer. I only lived minutes away. The car didn’t even have time to cool inside before I was pulling into the driveway. Continue reading


My Youth No More

My Youth No More

by: Ronovan


I was part of the group that had brought him to us. Sure, I had been one of those with some doubts but in the end I thought it would be best for the church as a whole. Little did I know that it would destroy my ministry.


There were a number of years you might have called me that Super Christian. I was of the younger generation in the church and thus willing to volunteer for whatever needed to be done. One such thing was youth ministry. As a high school teacher it was only natural that I was drawn to the youth group. I had watched from afar, and then God stepped in and led me to volunteer to help out only to discover weeks later the Youth Pastor was leaving for seminary school and the duty of leadership fell to me.


Even stranger is the fact this happened twice. I helped hire the next Youth Pastor and then slowly stepped back to let him take over. But then with the coming of the new Pastor to our church that I alluded to earlier, things changed.

Continue reading

A Mother of a Letter

A Mother of a Letter

by: Ronovan

I had no idea how it got there but as I slid to a stop on the trail I could do nothing but stare at the giant M.


Looking around I made sure there were no cameramen lurking about ready to punk me as I bent over, hands on knees and sucked wind from my run. My first thought was college prank, but no university around had an M in it. But it was obviously the letter from a sign.


I stood upright and started walking around the mother of an M. That’s when I saw a tag taped on the side with an address. Would have been great if it had been a phone number, but there was nothing else to do but to phone a friend.


“Al,” I said.




“Look up an address and give me the number for it,” I said and read the address to him. I stared at the letter with narrowed eyes as he gave me the information and then disconnected.


“You liar,” I said staring at it.


I dialed the number. “Walmart, this is Krista, how may I help you?”


© Copyright-All rights 06, 2014.

Brilliant George

Brilliant George

by: Ronovan

Dearest George,
I must admit a fondness for your brilliance. You shine in the sun with metallic glints. But it makes me wonder though, why you are valued at only 25 cents.

Much Admiration


Finding Freedom

Finding Freedom

by: Ronovan

Think about a person you hate. It doesn’t have to be someone you personally know. Seriously think about that person. Now think of the sucking of emotional energy from your body the mere name of that person does to you.

It’s similar to that feeling of falling in love in high school or even now really, and aching for the person and then it not happening. You feel like you have the flu you are so drained. Every part of you aches and you have no energy left.

Losing your mind of memories takes that away. As to how I know about how it feels . . . I’ve been writing for 20 years. I have a lot of notes and novels to look back through on that draining feeling. And . . . well . . . I go through it every day. Not the hate part though.

There is a blessing in having a Lost Mind…you have Lost Hate. I literally hate no one.

After losing my mind of memories a great many things became clear to me. I know that sounds a bit odd but having a mind clear of preconceived ideas was and still is something . . . liberating. Just think for a moment of that person from earlier. Do you have it yet . . . that feeling inside?

Now . . . imagine that name has no meaning to you. Imagine there is no emotional history attached to it.

The sad part is that I am reminded of what people are to me, or what they have done to me in the past. That information doesn’t go in my notebook. You may remember that I have a notebook where all the important memories go. I leave out the bad things and immediately begin to think of something else as soon as I can . . . kittens, puppies, hula dancers.

When you lose something you often think negatively. For me the initial loss was negative but even out of something that bad has come something good. I lost my memories but I found a freedom few people will ever be able to find. I found the freedom to live each day knowing people as they are and not how I think they should be.


Much Respect