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Hatfield's little corner of the WWW - 7/6/2005 12:12:39 AM
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Hatfield
Posts: 214
Joined: 4/24/2005
From: Right here at my computer!
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Father God, as I begin this new adventure for me, keep me ever mindful that if it is not edifying you, I should leave it be. Help me to see my life experience in ways that will help draw me closer to you Father God, and give me the tools that maybe my experiences can have value to my friends here on FaithCommunityNetwork!
I ask this all in Jesus precious and holy name...Amen!
Good evening friends! The time locally for me is 9:50pm, Tuesday July 5th, 2005. Welcome to my little corner of the World Wide Web. My intent in starting this blog is to have a place to share my thoughts, feelings and just generally what is going on in my life and the life of my family.
What are we going to find here? WHO KNOWS??? I don't even know and I'm WRITING the silly thing! 
I guess a good place to start would be to introduce myself. The rest of the world ONLINE knows me as Hatfield...the world OFFLINE knows me as Ron, the fourth child of William Carl _____ and Elaine Stuart _____. Now, I love my friends here on CW, but please know that there are people out there that can't be trusted as far as you can throw them. So, "Ron" is fine with me.
I grew up on the north side of Indianapolis Indiana, in a family that was half way between that in the television series "The Wonder Years" and the one in "That 70's Show" (But at least, there wasn't anything of "Married....with children" in it!) Life wasn't perfect, but I am blessed to say that looking back I realize now that I was deeply loved -- and still am!  
Grade school and high school had their typical ups and downs. I was more a 'nerdy' sort of kid. I kept to a close circle of friends and was too shy to date.
My first date was a blind date with one of my sister's bridesmaids who'd come into town the night before the rehearsal...so my sister set her up with me because she was unable to 'entertain' her friend. Suffice to say, I'm really glad that experience didn't sour me on dating as a whole. It wasn't pretty.
One of the high points from Jr High and all through high school and even my first summer in college was going to a summer camp in southern Indiana called Waycross. Waycross is the summer camp for the Episcopal Diocese of Indianapolis, and was very vital to much of my growing up years.
Also during this time, in the early summer just before going to summer camp, I would attend a program called "The Industrial Arts Summer Program" sponsored by an evangelical denomination. I had been invited to participate by the program's founder, who also happened to be the teacher of my Jr High shop class, Mr. Johnston. Having grown up in the Episcopal church, this was one of my first experiences with what my future wife's uncle would call "Holy Rollers." This was also my first experience hearing a message about this thing called Personal Salvation. You might say that seeds were planted.
OK, move the clock forward a few years ... up to my freshman year at Ball State University in Muncie Indiana. Campus life in the typical university is busy busy busy, and for me it was no different. What to study, what did I want to do with my life AFTER college, how do I choose the people I want to hang around with? Thankfully the first couple of these were answered really before I started college.
In high school, I had been very active with the photography club. Mr. Kantor, our advisor and the teacher of the only two photography classes in the school, was one of the first teachers that treated me---or so I thought at the time, hindsight being 20/20 and all that---as a peer rather than a subject. He encouraged my love of photography...to the point that what had started as a TWO class curriculum in the basics of photography and darkroom processing, became a FOUR class curriculum spanning basics, darkroom, studio and news photography! From this, I learned to love looking through the lens. (BTW, someone PM me and let me know if the image thing is disabled in the Blogs??? PLEASE??)
OK, back to college! I bet you think I wanted to study photojournalism don't you? Oddly enough, being a "Newsie" seemed ~~BORING~~ to my still teenaged mind. So I started taking classes in Ball State's Telecommunications curriculum (which at first was the RTM department...Radio, Television and Motion Pictures).
One of the very first classes that was needed in the department was TCOM 201, which was an introduction to television production. I showed up for the first day of class...along with the 40 or so others...into a classroom with 35 openings   . The professor, a very kindly gentleman took the role and explained that as happens on occasion, the university had intentionally overbooked a class, anticipating no shows or drops...so he randomly selected five names and asked them to go to the administration building to see if there was another slot in another class available. Guess who's name got called?  As the other students dashed up the stairs in a mad rush for the administration building across campus, I just didn't have the strength for it, so I walked up the stairs and half way up to the next floor I exclaimed very loudly a word that I know here won't be said ....
Rather than heading for the administration building, I went to the 2nd floor to the department office to see if there was another class that I could pick up, intending to come back for the 201 the following term. I was speaking with an advisor in the office when we heard running come down the hallway followed by the screech of shoes just outside the door. In pops the professor, rather flushed from running up the stairs and he quickly explains that one of the students that had STAYED...didn't have one of the prerequisite classes...so he was OUT and I was IN! We returned to the class together, and as the professor comes through the doors he very theatrically says, "Now I don't know WHO it was who would have used such LANGUAGE in the stairwell a moment ago...but I'm sure it wasn't Ron here!" Polite laughter went around the room...and I was in my first TCom class. I had also met the professor who was my personal advisor through my college education, Doctor Alan "Doc" Richards.
I think Fr. Mulcahy said it best when he said, "While it is true that the Meek shall inherit the Earth...its the PUSHY who will get PROMOTED!" 
I've got a whole lot more I'll be sharing with you in the weeks and months to come, so please come by again!
In Christ's Love
-Ron
[Edited per TOS 5]
< Message edited by BenQuebec -- 9/13/2005 10:24:32 PM >
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RE: Hatfield's little corner of the WWW - 7/6/2005 8:41:40 PM
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Hatfield
Posts: 214
Joined: 4/24/2005
From: Right here at my computer!
Status: offline
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Yay the pics work in here!!
At first I was thinking that I was going to take this whole thing chronologically....but seeing as that's not how my mind works, why should that be how my blog works either??
My Dad
William Carl, "Bill" to all but us four kids was the younger of two children of Dallas and Marie. Dad wanted to go into the navy in a big way, and seeing as at the time World War II was in full swing, he thought it wouldn't be a problem to get his father to sign off on the permission slip to let him go in at 17 years old. Dad was a good sized young fellow, and the recruiter was more than happy to talk with him about the benefits that a military life could offer him. He gave Dad the paper work for Grandpa to sign and told him to bring them back signed the next day.
Grandpa would have nothing to do with it! In fact, so that Dad couldn't consider getting Grandma to sign for him, Grandpa tore up the papers and told him to take THAT back to the recruiter. Dad wasn't a happy boy. 
Well, Dad didn't have to wait all that long. Less than 2 weeks after his 18th birthday ... he received his official greetings from the President of the United States, telling him to report to the appropriate induction office. Grandpa might not have wanted him to go, but Uncle Sam had other plans for Dad. He went to the induction office, along with about two dozen other young men. The same recruiter that Dad had spoken with before was there processing them. At that time, the greatest need for military service was infantry in the Army. So the recruiting officer walked down the line and would point at each man saying... "Army .... Army ... Army ... Marines ... Navy ..." dividing 3/5ths to the army for infantry, and 1/5th each to the marines and navy. Sure enough when the recruiter came around to Dad's end of the line, he pointed at the guy just BEFORE Dad saying "Navy..." then pointed at Dad saying "Army..." For what Dad calls the only time in his military career he ever spoke back to a superior, he stopped the recruiter and reminded him that they'd spoken just a couple of months prior, and that he'd REALLY much rather be in the navy. Without even missing a beat or actually responding to Dad, the recruiter pointed again at the man he'd designated for the navy, saying "Army..." and to Dad, "Navy..." and went right along in his count as if nothing had happened. Dad was in the Navy.
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RE: Hatfield's little corner of the WWW - 7/9/2005 12:00:21 AM
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Hatfield
Posts: 214
Joined: 4/24/2005
From: Right here at my computer!
Status: offline
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I guess what got me wanting to start this whole blog thing in the first place was that my Mom took a class a couple of years ago on writing memoirs, the result of that work is available here, in my writer's portfolio on writing.com.
It intrigued me...Trying to condense bits and pieces of our lives down to managable bite sized pieces for others to share. Mom writes memoirs...I blog. I think the only real difference is, her's are on paper and you can go to HER house to look at them...mine, if you're hooked to the net, you're good to go!
More about Dad
I try to think about what to write, and so much comes to me in such a rush I'm gonna have trouble thinking about what NOT to write.
My earliest memories of my father are very closely linked with two other members of my family on Dad's side of the family tree, Dad's Cousin Ruth and my Grandma (Dad's Mom). When I was around four years old, my parents divorced. As was typical in the mid-1960's, Mom received custody with Dad having visitation. Dad's visitation took the form that we saw him every Sunday (we all still went to the same church, Christ Church Episcopal Cathedral in Indianapolis IN) and that for two weeks each summer, Dad would pile all four of us kids into his car and take us for a visit with Cousin Ruth in Michigan.
Now for those that are unfamiliar, Michigan has almost as many lakes as Minnesota, and each summer, Ruth, Grandma, Dad, and my sibs Melissa, Eric, Becky and I would spend most of that two weeks in a lakeside cabin that Dad and Ruth would rent. Dad, Ruth and my brother Eric were very avid fishers, and would spend hours a day out in a little rowboat, which as often as not would have a little outboard motor on it.
While they were out fishing, Melissa (eldest child) would be watching the soaps with Grandma while Becky and I would do whatever to amuse ourselves. Usually this involved swimming off the little boat dock that the rowboat would otherwise be moored to. Looking back at how very little supervision we had as kids, and seeing what is daily trumpetted in the newspapers now, I consider it the full protection of God and his Angels that we all made it to adulthood. But we did.
Much of my childhood memories ellude me. I'll have flashes...like thinking about the trips to the cabin in Michigan that jump out at me. But there are times I wonder why I couldn't tell you all that much about other times. Is this me?
More another day!
In Christ's loving arms
-Ron
< Message edited by Hatfield -- 7/9/2005 11:45:55 PM >
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RE: Hatfield's little corner of the WWW - 7/10/2005 2:04:20 AM
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Hatfield
Posts: 214
Joined: 4/24/2005
From: Right here at my computer!
Status: offline
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Some of my personal testimony
This one could get a little bit interesting.
I grew up in the Episcopal Church, which is another name for the Church of England  (Anglican Church) in the United States. I guess when you look at it...the Anglican Church was the State Church of early Great Britain, and so it was this church that the earliest settlers of the american colonies was fleeing. I know, an odd way of looking at it, but anyway...
I grew up in the Episcopal Church. At one point as a young teen, I had considered the Episcopal priesthood, as one of my favorite uncles, Uncle Al, was a priest. I felt very comfortable in the Episcopal church, much like the Roman Catholic and Lutheran churchs, the worship service focused around litergy as a means of worship...singing hymns and anthems, reading passes of scripture and receiving the sacrement of communion...and of course sleeping through hearing a sermon by one of the priests of the church. It was comfortable, just about everyone I knew was in our church.
I had attended services in other churches. During my freshman year in college, I began meeting new friends. Friends who WEREN'T Episcopalians!  This was all fine and good of course. I would go home on weekends (Ball State was among other nicknames called the "Suitcase College", because a good number of its students were from communities close enough that they'd go home on weekends...) and be back in my little safe zone.
I even had a response for those that asked me if I'd been "Saved"...I'd tell them, "Why yes I was, it was about 2,000 years ago..." From my experience, the Episcopal church's teaching doesn't so much focus on the personal relationship with the Lord, but rather to the service to others by the body of the church--just my observation. I could likely start a very lively thread in Religion and Ethics on some of my ponderings and musing ... but that will be for another day.
So anyway, I met friends of different faiths in college, I would go to some of their church services, and as often as not, they'd tag along with me to visit with my family on weekends and would come to church with US.
A funny brief story on that line...One of my college friends, Mark, was raised in the Friends Church--what is also called the Quakers (yeah, like the guy on the oatmeal boxes), and after having spent a weekend visiting with his family, a few weeks after, he came and visited with mine. That Sunday, Mark came with me to church at the Cathedral. After services, there was a coffee hour, a chance to fellowship with church friends before returning to that outside world...
Well, we were mingling with my friends, I was introducing Mark around, and just about every girl I would say hi to, would give me a big hug (and a couple of them a little peck  ) and when I'd introduce them to Mark...well they'd give HIM a little squeeze as well! After we were back in the car and headed back to campus, I asked Mark what he thought about it. He asked me some questions about the service--which is VERY different from a Friend's meeting I had learned-- and then he asked me what I think had really been his biggest concern, he asked me, "Are the girls always that friendly??" I couldn't help but chuckle.
By the time I came through my Junior year at Ball State, I was a little more receptive of others speaking about their faith, and I acknowledged that maybe, just maybe the Episcopal church didn't have absolutely all the answers I was looking for. As God's timing would have it, it was also around that same time that I started dating a very wonderful woman. Very accepting, very loving, and very "Born Again" Those around here know her, she's my wife Beth (Scarlett) And as boyfriends sometimes do, at her mother's invitation, I would visit with Beth's family on some weekends and go to church with them.
Mind you, I was used to church being...
Choirboys in robes..
Pipe organs..
and priests in vestments..
We went to Beth's family's church (First Assembly of God, Logansport IN) and found things like guitars, pianos and banjos and a set of drums!
and people raising their hands praising God!
And the other thing I found there...I could never find a good picture so I won't even try, but before I'd said a word to anyone, as I entered the sanctuary of that church, it was like stepping from a freezing cold blizzard into a house warmed by a roaring fire. The blizzard was forgotten and the warmth came straight to my bones. It was very different...but very much what I had needed but didn't realize.
So, in November of 1986, we were attending a dramatic performance. It was a play about what life would be like AFTER the Rapture...but this was NOT the 'Left Behind' books, but a similar concept. Church members played the parts of persecuted Christians as well as some really NASTY people who were hunting the Christians and the story told of the events of that time ... the gist of the play was how dire and necessary it was to make a decision to follow Jesus as your Lord and Savior NOW, while you still had the chance to MAKE a choice.
After the performance, the Pastor came to the front of the sanctuary and gave an explanation of what many of us know as the "Roman Road". How it is not by our own works that we get into Heaven, but it is by faith in Jesus, so that no man should boast...that it didn't happen 2000 years ago, that it is happening right NOW if you would choose to let God have control in your life. I was almost so much so aghast that it had been so much right there in front of me, that I sat their for a moment not knowing what to do. But God knew how to show me, the pastor said, "Now with every head bowed, and every eye closed, I want you to consider what you've seen tonight. If the Rapture would occur now ... do you know where you would be? If you don't know I'd like for you to raise your hand, just for a moment, then I'll have you put your hand down..." I raised my hand.
The Pastor then explained that there were members of the church that would like an opportunity to pray with you (meaning ME), "And so again, with every eye closed, and heads bowed, if you would like to make a commitment to follow the Lord, to give your heart to Him, I will ask you to stand. Don't leave your seat, just stand up, and one of our church members will come and stand with you to pray with you." I stood. It may sound cliche' now, but my knees shook a little. I felt a hand upon my shoulder, and found that Kerry, the man who'd played the leader of the persecutors in the drama (and still in his frightful costume I might add! ), was smiling at me. That evening, we prayed together...with Beth at my side and crying her eyes out, as I gave my heart to Jesus.
Life since then hasn't been perfect, as a dear friend once told me, "Watermelon still has seeds..." but by God's grace I am living my life to the best of my ability and in the love of my Lord!
_____________________________
Ron  (aka Hatfield)
If I'm not here,
You'll find me [url=telnet://204.13.233.77:4200]here[/url]
(Ark of the Covenant MUD, a Christian online game)
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RE: Hatfield's little corner of the WWW - 7/11/2005 1:16:34 AM
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Hatfield
Posts: 214
Joined: 4/24/2005
From: Right here at my computer!
Status: offline
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Brief note about previous post...the pictures were from sites found in an image search, they are not of anyone he knows, just similar to what he was describing!
Pardon me while I take a moment to rant...
I work in retail, at a "Super Store" retailer similar to a Super Walmart. With their home offices in Michigan, I work for Meijer. I've been cashiering with the Meijer organization for over six years now, and in that time, there are some things that have become pet peeves of mine. So if I may, I will say to you my dear reading friend what I might say to the guest ... If I were able to without the possibility of getting fired:
- No I'm sorry, just because I cannot get the upc number to scan, doesn't mean that you get it for free...
- Yes Ma'am/Sir, I can see that there are three oranges in the produce bag, working with money requires my being able to COUNT.
- Ma'am, the tag is missing from this garment, would you recall what the price was? Well yes, I'm sure it was supposed to be 50% off, the question is 50% from WHAT?
- No, I'm sorry. Indiana law specifically states that I cannot sell alcoholic beverages on Sundays. Well I'm sorry, I don't make the rules. Yes, I'm sure you DO use it for medicinal purposes, but I still cannot sell it to you until tomorrow. (OK, I admit it, I DID have that conversation!)
I feel so much better getting that off my chest a moment! Don't get too comfortable, I've been known to rant occasionally, so I might just do it here.
I guess the one thing that I've found that I need to focus on during the trials of my life is this....
Yes, I have a less than exhilerating job that while it pays the bills doesn't do to much more than that, but this also means that I have a job and can (usually) pay my bills, when others around me are less fortunate.
Yes, I am more than 50 pounds overweight, but it means I live in a country where people have so much food that I can pack on these pounds--even when I shouldn't.
Yes, occasionally I fight with friends and my sweet Beth, but this also means I have people that care enough about me that when I disagree with them on some issue or other, it upsets them!
So, even in the midst of trial, I try with my heart to give praise for the blessings that I have.
_____________________________
Ron (aka Hatfield)
If I'm not here,
You'll find me [url=telnet://204.13.233.77:4200]here[/url]
(Ark of the Covenant MUD, a Christian online game)
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RE: Hatfield's little corner of the WWW - 7/19/2005 9:12:49 PM
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Hatfield
Posts: 214
Joined: 4/24/2005
From: Right here at my computer!
Status: offline
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Where I got the name "Hatfield"
A friend of my mother's is an Episcopal priest named Martin Bell. Now, Father Bell was very atypical of the priests that I have known in my life. Asside from having been the priest at a church my Mom attended for a time (another story there... ), he played guitar with a rather rock and bluesy sort of style. Father Bell was also an author, and wrote some wonderful books. My two favorites being The Way of the Wolf: The Gospel in New Images and Return of the Wolf. In Return, a collection of what Fr. Bell calls "Fables, parables and short stories" is the story of Hatfield.
Hatfield is a blind man, the master of a fictional sort of martial arts called Dhariki. The story follows:
(for the TOS, I provide the following statement: To my knowledge, this work is not available in a linkable format online, else I would provide it. While I do not hold exclusive copyright to this work, I am offering it as a fan of Fr. Bell's work, and as such will gain nothing financially or otherwise. If you LIKE the story, I would encourage you to go to http://www.barringtonbunny.com and follow their instructions towards purchasing a copy of the book for yourself!)
(I)
"Of course you realize he has dhariki powers," said one of the translucent
creatures who had been summoned.
"As a matter of principle he will not use dhariki," Tolak replied.
His words had a hollow sound.
"A man of principle," the second creature laughed.
Tolak stared at them. "Jennings says to stop him at all costs. Do
you understand?"
Nefid and Droh understood. Nevertheless, any thought of
confronting Hatfield was profoundly disturbing.
"Where is he?" asked Droh.
"In the forest at present. Traveling southwest. He is searching
for the wolf's lair."
"How do suggest we stop him?" Nefid said uneasily.
"In the name of Hell," hissed Tolak. "I don't know. Tell him you
have word from the wolf. Threaten him with death. Just get the job
done."
Nefid and Droh looked at each other, then at Tolak. Neither of
them spoke.
"Hatfield must be stopped," Tolak went on. "Jennings will not
tolerate failure in this matter.."
(II)
Quite unaware of these developments, Hatfield moved swiftly along
his way. The narrow sheath affixed to his left forearm held a thin
blade of tempered steel--its handle resting just above the wrist. In
addition, he carried a heavy wooden staff. And a wineskin filled with
water was slung over one shoulder.
After a while he arrived at a clearing near the forest's edge.
Hatfield was about to cross when he sensed a pressence in that place.
Something or someone was there. The traveler stopped and raised his
staff.
"Who are you?" Hatfield called out.
"Messengers," Droh said, his voice faltering.
"We bring word from the wolf," Nefid added quickly.
"So...messengers." Hatfield did not move. "What word do you
bring?"
"Wrong path," Nefid replied. "You are traveling southwest. Wolf
is due east."
Hatfield let this thought spread across his mind. The wolf sends
directions to his lair? Unlikely.
"Due east," Nefid said again with conviction.
Hatfield appeared to be considering the matter. "Journey to the
East, is it?"
"Exactly,"Nefid agreed.
"What else does the wolf want me to know?"
Droh could not resist answering. "He has prepared a feast for you.
A reward for the work you have accomplished."
The traveler shook his head in bewilderment. Not only does the
wolf send directions to his lair, but now he offers a reward. Without
question, these two were imposters. Hatfield grasped the staff with
both hands. His voice barely audible.
"The wolf did not send you. Your words are those of Jennings.
Stand aside or I'll flatten both of you."
"Damn you Hatfield!" Nefid exclaimed. "Turn back or die!"
"You are prepared to kill me?"
"We are."
"Minion! Fool! You threaten Hatfield with death?"
"We know of your dhariki powers," said Droh. "We also know that you
will not use them.
Hatfield looked surprised. "Is that what Jennings told you?"
"Jennings himself did not send us," Nefid replied. "We work for
Tolak."
"Then it was Tolak who said I would not use dhariki?"
"Yes."
"And you believed him?"
"Why not?"
Hatfield shrugged. "Because Tolak is a liar. I will use dhariki."
Nefid did not wait. He screamed, jerked his sword from its
scabbard and ran toward Hatfield swinging the weapon wildly.
The when he was within five feet of his opponent, the translucent
creature suddenly dropped low to the ground and spun about twice with
astonishing skill. The blade made a whistling sound as it cut through
the air where Hatfield's legs should have been.
Simultaniously, Droh removed an irregular metallic disc from his
belt pouch. Raising his hand to hurl the object, he realized Hatfield
was gone.
Nefid and Droh moved around the clearing--their eyes searching for
some sign of the traveler.
"He's disappeared," Droh whispered.
"Dhariki!" Nefid's dread was palpable. "Hatfield is still in the
clearing. Be careful."
With his sword, Nefid repeatedly and systematically slashed each
quadrant of the space surrounding him.
"He's not here," Droh said again.
Exasperated, Nefid turned to reprimand his companion. What he saw
was Droh lying face up on the ground. Near his right hand lay the
irregular metallic disc.
"Hatfield!" Nefid yelled.
"You should never have believed Tolak." Hatfield's voice spoke
from behind. Nefid felt something sharp strike hard just beneath his
left shoulder blade. Before he could speak, he went unconscious.
"Tolak...." Hatfiled mused as he continued to make his way along
the southwest passage leading out of the forest. "No, it isn't over.
Jennings will not let matters rest here." He moved quickly, tapping
with his staff, listening, now and again turning his head to better hear
the sounds around him. Hatfield was a dhariki master. But he was also
blind.
Jennings spoke from a remote sector of region five. "Hatfield has
to be stopped."
"Nefid and Droh were dispatched," Tolak said.
"They have failed."
"I do not understand...."
"You do understand sir. They were inadequately prepared. You told
them Hatfield would not use dhariki."
"I thought it best."
"You didn't think at all, Tolak," Jennings said evenly. "Hatfield
has passed through the Nindra Forest and is even now on his way to the
Desert of Tabib. You are relieved of any further responsibility in this
matter. I myself shall be waiting for Hatfield when he reaches Tabib.
(IV)
Desert's edge--Hatfield sensed the vast wasteland before him. Sand
was warm to the touch. Air was cool, almost chilling. The traveler
concluded had arrived at this place just after dark. Hatfield sat down
to rest.
He reflected: Best to keep going and cross by night. But can the
journey be accomplished before daybreak? To be in the middle of the
desert when the sun comes up, even with water and provisions means
death. I must cross at night--tonight, tomorrow night, its all the
same. But how far to the other side? There's no way to be certain.
The wolf demands a journey and gives no directions. He never offers
answers. The result is incalculable risk on an unknown desert -- headed
in a direction one can only guess at.
Hatfield was confounded. His own thoughts stopped him like a wall.
In truth he could not be sure of anything.
The blind man continued to sit motionless at the desert's edge.
Then from a place somewhere deep within him, another idea broke through:
Jennings. How subtle. How characteristic. To use my own mind to
defeat me. Rational arguments designed to kill the spirit.
"Very clever, Jennings," Hatfield said aloud. "Master of the 'what
if' and 'first be sure of the way.' Purveyor of a truth that brings
about inaction." But then immediately the traveler speculated: What if
it's not Jennings? What if I am simply facing facts?
"Incredible," Hatfield laughed. "I'm at it again. No. It's
Jennings all right. Far greater than Tolak."
Without hesitating, Hatfield scrambled to his feet and stepped
forth into the desert. Repeatedly swinging his staff in a wide arc, he
moved silently through the cold night air. A breeze cut across his body
from left front to right rear. Hatfield kept moving--traveling blind.
Trusting the wind.
After what seemed like several hours it occurred to Hatfield that
the wind might have shifted without his perceiving it. In spite of
these doubts, however, he kept on his way--remembering the cunning
methods of Jennings.
To his surprise there was no noise when the staff suddenly
connected with something ahead of him. Hatfield stopped short. Once
again he swung the staff in a wide arc. The jarring sensation like that
of hitting a tree. But there was no sound.
"Mr. Hatfield, you are a stubborn man."
"Jennings?"
"Quite so, sir."
"Here in person?"
"Does that surprise you, Hatfield?"
"I suppose not..."
"I shouldn't have thought so. Come now, shall we get straight to
the point? You must abandon this journey, if for no other reason that
you are no longer able to continue. Dhariki is of no avail. And you
cannot get around me. As I am certain you are aware, Mr. Hatfield, I am
real--unlike Tolak and his people."
"I know you are real," Hatfield acknowledged.
"And far more powerful than you."
"Agreed."
"Well then?"
"I'm thinking," responded the blind dhariki master.
"May I remind you that what you are attempting is impossible? No
one can search out the wolf's lair."
"Yes, I know that."
"Then your journey is futile in any event."
"If the journey were utterly futile, Jennings, you would not be so
determined to stop me."
"But that brings us back to the beginning, Mr. Hatfield. If I am,
as you say, determined to stop you...how do you propose to continue?"
"I'm thinking."
"It's not too late to turn back," Jennings said without emotion.
Hatfield's mind raced. Jennings was telling the truth when he said
no one could search out the wolf's lair. But it did not follow that the
wolf could not be found. If the whole journey were meaningless, why
would Jennings interfere? Why involve Tolak? Hatfield was sure that
the wolf could be found--not by searching, not by waiting. The journey
itself was of utmost importance. From the first, Hatfield had believed
he was on the right track. Now Jennings reaction confirmed it. Not
by searching, not by waiting. He would never find the wolf. The wolf
would find him.
"What do you think, Hatfield? Is it not wiser to abandon the
project?"
The blind man moved suddenly, somersaulting foward. In the next
instant he slammed the staffupward with full force. The blow would have
been fatal to another opponent. Under the present circumstances,
however, Hatfield had a sense of having just attacked infinite mass and
weight. The heavy wooden staff snapped in two like a twig.
"Stop it Hatfield!" Jennings roared. "Your skill is not equal to
the task."
The dhariki master circled slowly. "my skill is not equal to any
of this, Jennings. So why not fight you?"
Hatfield jabbed with half of the broken staff. Then Jennings hit
him. The traveler was knocked to the ground hard, but immediately
regained his footing. Again Jennings lashed out. This time Hatfield
grabbed instinctively and got hold of what felt like a
tentacle--certainly not an arm. Quickly the thing wrapped itself around
his neck. A second appendage lashed around his legs. Hatfield could
not breathe. With his right hand he slapped at his left wrist. From
its narrow sheath on his forearm, he managed to remove the thin blade of
tempered steel. Without hesitating, Hatfield cut deep into the tentacle
that was strangling him. Jennings bellowed and the blind man could feel
an oily liquid oozing from the wound.
Now Hatfield could breath. Immediately, however, he felt himself
being lifted from the ground. Jennings continued to roar and bellow.
"Your power is limited," Hatfield gasped as Jennings raised him
higher and higher above the desert. "You mobilized Tolak, the artful
illusionist--but the wolf sent you. Oh, you are real enough, Jennings.
Nevertheless, your power is limited. The wolf is ultimately responsible
for what happens here." Hatfield had the sensation of spinning. Then
the dhariki master was hurled onto the desert with such force that he
lost consciousness.
(V)
"Enough, Jennings," the wolf said. "Here in the Desert of Tabib,
it is I who have an appointment with Hatfield, not you."
"He is clever and ruthless," Jennings muttered.
"He is blind and unconscious," replied the wolf. "Leave him alone.
Go now. Your work here is finished."
Without another word Jennings disappeared into the darkness. The
silver wolf stood for a moment looking at the traveler, who was barely
breathing.
"You have astonishing courage, dhariki master," he said. "we have
a great deal to talk about. And more to accomplish. But do not try to
speak now. First you must rest from your journey."
Then like some fierce sheppard keeping watch by night, the great
animal crouched beside Hatfield and growled at the desert surrounding
them.
The End
Story taken from "Return of the Wolf" By Fr. Martin Bell
published by Seabury Press 1984
< Message edited by Hatfield -- 7/20/2005 2:16:49 PM >
_____________________________
Ron (aka Hatfield)
If I'm not here,
You'll find me [url=telnet://204.13.233.77:4200]here[/url]
(Ark of the Covenant MUD, a Christian online game)
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RE: Hatfield's little corner of the WWW - 7/20/2005 2:58:42 PM
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Hatfield
Posts: 214
Joined: 4/24/2005
From: Right here at my computer!
Status: offline
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A little bit about my other half.
For those that cruise the PFY threads here on FCN, many of you have had the pleasure of meeting my wife Beth. After 17 years of marriage, I still marvel daily at the joy this woman brings to my life--and trust me I thank God daily for her!
We met, as I've mentioned, at Ball State University in Muncie Indiana. At the time of our initial meeting, I was persuing but not quite stalking one of Beth's best friends, a young lady named Rindy. One afternoon, I had gone over to Rindy's room where I was visiting her and her roommate. We were just passing time when a girl sticks her head into the room and asks Rindy about something. Rindy introduces me to Beth, we both say 'Hi...' and Beth was off.
Move the clock forward a few months...Its approaching the Thanksgiving break. Before the advent of this thing we all know and love as the internet, BSU had what would now be refered to as an intranet system of computers with computer labs situated all over campus. It was lovingly refered to simply as the VAX. (I'm sure that acronym has a meaning, I only know it was an IBM based system and was text only...pre-windows sort of stuff) I was on one of the terminals in my dormatory and was playing some games and was also chatting with other students I knew on a system called the VAXPhone. Sorta like chat pm'ing...I saw that Rindy's friend Beth was online so I sent her a 'Hiya!' we got to chatting, and I mentioned that I was going to a campus ministry Thanksgiving dinner that night. Beth dropped a twenty pound HINT on my foot saying "Gee, I don't have any plans this evening..." (sly thing...  ) so I invited her to come along.
The fun part of the story was told from Beth's perspective. As soon as she got off the computer, she pushed her wheelchair pellmell down the hall to her dorm room and made a train wreck out of the room figuring out what she was going to wear! Her roommate at the time (a Laotian exchange student who went by "Connie") was aghast..."What you mean you going on date? Who is your chaparone??" As Beth got herself dressed, she explained that in the US, you don't need a chaparone for dating...and Beth zipped out of the room back to the dorm's common room where I'd agreed to meet her to walk with her over to the dinner.
At that time, Beth had an electric wheelchair, so I didn't have to push her, but I do admit there were times I had to KEEP UP with her!! The top speed on that buggy was just a little faster than a very brisk walk, but not quite a run. Well, when I met her in the dorm, I wanted to be a gentleman, so I was holding the door for her as we exited the building. Beth, not realizing how close she was as I was holding the door, ran over my foot.  She was very apologetic, but laughed when I commented that you had to admit, it made a good first impression. That evening, I did things like get her food for her (no, I let her cut her own up!  ) but I just generally treated her the best I knew how. Beth told me years later that she was like, Whoa! I can get used to this!
With a couple of exceptions because of school and such...we've not been apart since. We met in 1986, we married in 1988. Life is never perfect for anyone, and we're no exceptions to that, but if I had it to do again knowing what I know now...I wouldn't change a thing!
_____________________________
Ron (aka Hatfield)
If I'm not here,
You'll find me [url=telnet://204.13.233.77:4200]here[/url]
(Ark of the Covenant MUD, a Christian online game)
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RE: Hatfield's little corner of the WWW - 7/25/2005 2:22:51 AM
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Hatfield
Posts: 214
Joined: 4/24/2005
From: Right here at my computer!
Status: offline
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Childhood Memories
I'm not sure if I'm normal in one regard or not. I don't have as many childhood memories as I think most other people do. I mean, I know that most people don't have this whole memories-down-to-the-minute thing about their childhoods, but there are times I don't think I have ... well ... much at all.
I do have memories about some things, and maybe this is the way things are for people's memories, at least once you're older and trying to remember stuff from your childhood.
I think the earliest actual memory I can recall...I'm laying in my crib and my Mom is leaning over the crib and says, "Num-num!" I have no idea what the context was.
Like my wife Beth, because of a birth condition, I spent a goodly amount of time in my childhood in the hospital. Maybe my memory gaps are the result of the volumes of anesthetics I was exposed to by the time I was 5 or 6. But I also remember very vividly the halls and rooms I was in at the hospital. It was at Methodist Hospital in Indianapolis, the entire Children's Pavillion was a gift from the Lilly family (Eli Lilly and Co. Pharmeceuticals of Indianapolis IN). In its day and time it was state of the art. Within the past couple of years, a family friend had their son in the Lilly Pavillion, and Beth and I went to visit with them. Talk about your major league flashbacks! With some minor exceptions like additional monitoring equipment and computers at the nurse's desk...the unit had barely changed. Well, asside from seeming so much smaller than I remember it. But maybe that was me.
Other memories will revolve around particular events. My parents divorced when I was about 4 years old, and I vividly remember the day Dad left. All four of us kids were crying our eyes out, and Mom was as well. I'm the youngest, and my sister Becky (#3) ran to the door intending to go with Dad when he left. But he knelt gave her a quick hug and told her she had to stay and help take care of the baby (meaning me).
Happy memories include the Holidays. If you look at it from the positive side, one advantage of having divorced parents was that we had two Christmases! We'd have Christmas morning with Mom, my maternal Grandma and her Cousin LaVon (kinda reminded me of the Baldwin Sisters on the Waltons...), and we'd have Christmas day evening with Dad and his sister and bil (Uncle Dick and Aunt Helene) and their kids. To say I had blessings in my family would be understating it. But usually by the time Christmas day was over, there was seldom if ever anything for me to complain about.
The Christmas season as a whole always seemed to have an air of magic for me as a child. Even looking back now, there are some things that will just get my spirit moving to think about them. As I've mentioned, I grew up going to the Cathedral for the Episcopal Diocese of Indianapolis,  . For me, the Christmas season started with the "Greening of the Cathedral", which was when volunteers would come down to the church and put about a full acre of pine forest into the sanctuary! When it was finished, the sight was such that in hind sight I wish I'd gotten some pictures during my teen years.
Christmas Eve would begin with the Lessons and Carols service at 6pm. During it, various members of the congregation would read the Christmas story, taking different sets of verses from each of the gospels. Also from the OT and the book of Genesis telling the Creation story. Between the readings, the church choir would either sing anthems or would sing just about every carol that has ever been written. My favorite will always be Oh Come All Ye Faithful, because I loved singing the descant....or I did when I still had a suprano's voice that could hit the notes in the descant. To this day, hearing others sing it, it gives me chills its so beautiful. But when I could sing it, it was almost like playing for me...
Sing choirs of Angels
Sing in exultation!
Sing all ye citizens
Of heaven above
Glory to God
In the Highest
Oh Come!
Oh Come!
Oh Come let us adore Him
Christ the Lord!!
_____________________________
Ron (aka Hatfield)
If I'm not here,
You'll find me [url=telnet://204.13.233.77:4200]here[/url]
(Ark of the Covenant MUD, a Christian online game)
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RE: Hatfield's little corner of the WWW - 8/3/2005 5:15:06 PM
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Hatfield
Posts: 214
Joined: 4/24/2005
From: Right here at my computer!
Status: offline
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Just thinking out loud today...
Our pastor, Walt Weaver of Faith Church Assembly of God, while being a very intelligent and Spirit driven man of God, is also something of a NUT. Right about this time of year--I'm not sure of the exact dates--he is preparing to undergo surgery on his leg. Why? Because prior to being a pastor, Walt was in construction. As a result, anytime ANYthing needs fixed at the church, he doesn't expect someone else to do it..he goes and gets the supplies to do it himself!
OK, I will grant you that this is by far the more fiscally responsible use of the church's money, but our church has a reasonably good sized regular attendance (typically 200+ at each of the two Sunday morning services) and I'm sure that if they really wanted to, they could hire someone to do repair work ... maybe Walt just likes keeping his hand in on his old skills.
Recently, I'm not sure what he was up to, but as it was described to me, Walt was on a step stool, outside the building, with a carpenter's hammer hanging from his jeans and both hands wrapped around a six foot by eight foot sheet of plywood, intending to lift it into place for it to be nailed onto some portion of the building. As Walt lifted the plywood sheet and turned to line it up on the building, a gust of wind came up making Walt one of the world's heaviest kites! He was knocked to the ground where he REBROKE the leg he'd broken a previous year...doing what? Falling off a ladder at the church! I told him at the Church's July 4th gathering that the next time he got it in his head to work on ladders or climb on 'things' to work on the church, I was gonna sic the Men's Ministries Team on him like it was a therapeudic intervention.
We met Walt Weaver when he was the youth minister at the church Beth and I got married at, First Assembly of God in Beth's home town of Logansport IN. My fondest memory of Walt was during a New Years Eve vigil being held at the church. The plan was to have praise and worship up until about 11:30pm, break for a late evening pitch-in in the fellowship hall, and then return for the Senior Pastor's message after we all counted down the new year. I think this was 1990 or 1991?
As we were all returning to the sanctuary, we took our seats and I looked to the back to see where the rest of our family was (we were there with Beth's Mom and some dear friends that to us are family whether by blood or not). I glance to the door just in time to see Walt Weaver come in the door bouncing one of those "superballs"...the high density rubber balls, and with a big goofy grin on his face like he was having the time of his life. I told Beth I thought the "youth pastor" was taking his title way to literally...
_____________________________
Ron (aka Hatfield)
If I'm not here,
You'll find me [url=telnet://204.13.233.77:4200]here[/url]
(Ark of the Covenant MUD, a Christian online game)
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RE: Hatfield's little corner of the WWW - 8/5/2005 12:40:12 AM
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Hatfield
Posts: 214
Joined: 4/24/2005
From: Right here at my computer!
Status: offline
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One of the very few things I've ever done
that I was ashamed of myself
First a tiny bit of background information: One of the biggest things I like to do online is play online interactive games more commonly refered to as "MUDs" (Multiple User Devices), these games are text based (no gee-wizzy graphics like video games) and share many elements of Role Playing Games. You solve mysteries, fight bad guys and you also chat with people from all over the globe, much like we do here on FCN/Crosswalk.
Shortly after we'd moved here to our present home, but before we had our own personal computers, we would go online from our local public library. One afternoon I was surfing around and came across a page listing free games for people to play online. Having played as much Solitaire and read as much email as were available to me, I checked out the webpage of a game (won't give the full name, for I wish them no ill will) with the initials TF.
Their introduction stated that they were an online adventuring game, and invited the reader in to explore and see how well they could survive and thrive! I logged on (this was THE first place I used the name "Hatfield" which I still use to this day), and after finding my footing I was pretty much hooked. There were things to explore, and lots of people to talk to. I learned that the hosting computer for this game was actually over in England, and as a result, the majority of the game's players were also english. But they didn't seem to mind a couple of Yanks coming around once in a while. And so I invited my wife to join me there(for her, that was also the first time she used the screen name of Scarlett)
Between the two of us, we explored, we solved puzzles and we just generally had a ball. After we'd been there for a while (most of a year as I recall it) we had many people on the game that we considered friends. One of MY friends was a 26 year old woman who lived in the UK. She was having relationship issues with her then-fiance and would seek my counsel on what she was supposed to do. I would suggest things like counseling and maybe spending some time OFF the computers with him and so forth, but after a time nothing seemed to work out with them, and since they weren't married, they ended their relationship.
Having to pause to think for a moment, this is the first time I've spoken of this in a forum that wasn't specifically just between myself and someone specifically being addressed.
We would talk about her issues, and sometimes about my life. I didn't see myself as having any issues, but she encouraged me to speak when I had something on my mind.
Note to the moderators if you're out there:
As this is a private blog, I will be admitting to something
here in a moment, but I will not be crude in saying it.
But I feel I need to get this off my proverbial chest.
This woman and I became closer and closer 'friends', to the point that I felt I needed to hide my feelings about HER from my wife Beth. This woman and I would correspond via email, or we'd visit while on this game (one advantage of her being 6 hours ahead of me, on days I was off work, she would be home AFTER work during her evening hours.) Our relationship developed to the point that while there were miles seperating us, we were for all intents having an affair.
I'm not proud of it now, and if there were any way I could make that bit of time just go away, I would do it. It almost cost my wife and I our marriage.
Here on THIS side of the CRT, I had pretty much shut down emotionally. We would go to church, not because I wanted to worship the King of kings. I still felt that so long as I was married, that I needed to take care of my wife. She wanted to go to church, we went. At the end of every service, our pastor would give an altar call, every service, I would remain seated but Beth would go forward to pray for us.
After a time, the woman in England ended our 'relationship' because she'd met someone locally, and to be frankly honest about it, her new boyfriend was THERE, and I was HERE...with very little chance of getting over THERE any time soon. I cried.
A few months later I started the same cycle all over again, THIS time with a woman in California. Same stuff, different place...But Beth KEPT praying for me. Almost another full year later, as I was being the dutiful husband yet again, we were in Church, Beth was at the altar praying for me--her worthless no-good cheating husband, and I was just sitting in my seat.
A voice spoke in my ear. I looked around, but there was no one standing close enough to have spoken this clearly.
quote:
You have not loved Me as you've loved your self,
and you have not honored your marriage as I have commanded you to do.
I knew I still had issues, but it was as if the scales fell from my eyes and I understood not only what I had been doing wrong, but I understood how it was crushing my wife's heart. I broke down in tears like I have never cried before. Snot all down the face, scarlet red cheeks--only holding back the hollering by a force of will crying. I walked up beside Beth at the rail, and knelt beside her, and begged her to forgive me for the garbage I'd put her through. She held me in her arms while I cried, adding her tears to my own.
We agreed that we needed to seek counseling with a Christian counselor. And we attended sessions with a wonderful man for the better part of 6 months. At the time however, our finances were a bit tight and we almost wound up losing our house! So we had to stop counseling, but I think we got the basic message that we needed...that's been almost 5 years ago I think. And I thank God for my Beth every day!
To you dear reader,
If you and your spouse are having troubles, even if you're NOT having the same sort of experience we had, seek counseling; preferably with a Christian Counselor (your pastor/minister/priest should be able to refer you to someone in your area) Marriage is like a garden. When the weeds come--and trust me they will-- you don't till the whole garden under, you pull the weeds. Work with your spouse. Pray for them daily and even when you might not feel like it, tell them how much they mean to you and how much you love them. The time will come when you WILL mean it, and you WILL feel like it.
I will hold you in my prayers.
-R
_____________________________
Ron (aka Hatfield)
If I'm not here,
You'll find me [url=telnet://204.13.233.77:4200]here[/url]
(Ark of the Covenant MUD, a Christian online game)
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RE: Hatfield's little corner of the WWW - 8/7/2005 12:34:16 AM
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Hatfield
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