Emodetions: Hot Chocolate Chats with God

Dedication

This work is dedicated to my Heavenly Father and my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, for without whom, the inspirations and words would never have come. I pray that You find this pleasing. For what You have done (and continue to do) for me, this is the very least I can do for You.

Contents

Dedication

Introduction

Introduction to Heavenly Port of Call

Heavenly Port of Call

Introduction to The Reservation

The Reservation

Introduction to 1,950 Feet

1,950 Feet

Perfect Vacation

Introduction to Silver Fire

Silver Fire

Refer to Maker

Introduction to Fingerprints

Fingerprints

The Glue

Going Back

Introduction to The Sweetest Poison

The Sweetest Poison

The Chain

Introduction to Can You Hear Me Whisper

Can You Hear Me Whisper?

On Call

Introduction to The Eviction

The Eviction

Introduction to The Gift

The Gift

Introduction to I, Addicted

ADDICTED

Check Mate

Introduction to I Mend

I Mend

Introduction to The Experience of Her

The Experience of Her

Closed On Sunday

Introduction To I Solemnly Swear

I Solemnly Swear

Closing

Special Thanks

Thanks

Acknowledgements

Introduction

Let me apologize, up front. I am not a writer. This is my very first attempt at such an undertaking. I didn’t major in journalism or creative writing or anything as such. I edited this, myself and am solely and wholly culpable for any and all mistakes in punctuation and grammatical errors. What I am, as those who know me will readily attest, is a talker. Given half the chance, I will talk your ears off. Sometimes, during my incessant rambling, I have a good idea, or two. On a few occasions, I have managed to shut up long enough to actually put some of those ideas on paper. That is what you see before you.

I am also, not perfect. Nothing in this book is meant to point fingers, cast aspersions, or otherwise say that I am living a life better than anyone else. No one on this planet, regardless of money, status, etc., will ever be better than anyone else. Just as no one devoid of money, status, etc., will ever be less than anyone else.

I’m just a normal man. I sing loudly and mostly off-key in the car. I hate cutting my lawn. I continue to shoot photographs with film. I have an addiction to Mountain Dew (they should offer me stock…SERIOUSLY). I curse on occasion. I’m not above having a few beers with the fellows (even though two is my limit). Politically, I have dubbed myself a ‘pragmatocrat’. I have a spontaneous sense of humor and wit (I actually thought about titling this book ‘EModeTIONS: The number one best seller’) and I still chuckle to myself when I’m alone and I break wind.

My friend, Kelvin McClendon has often said, Chance, you have an excellent command of the English language. What does that mean? It’s my first language! Anyway, he along with Karl Washington, were my music producers and I think he was paid to say that. Nevertheless, I’m hoping that a bit of his displaced confidence in my wordiness comes in handy with this project.

I often wonder in my times of silence and reflection, what I would say to God and He to me, if we found ourselves engaging in idle chatter, people watching, over a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Oddly enough, the more I wondered, the clearer His voice became. Also odd, is how much I shut up when God speaks. That allows for a lot of ‘putting on paper’ and fortunately for me, a lot of growth. I like to think that He gave us one mouth and two ears because He wants us to listen twice as much as we speak.

What you have in your hands is a result of my listening and desire to share what works for me. These are merely reflections of where I’ve been and what I’ve been through to bring me to where I am, today. If there’s anything within these pages that you find helpful, then I’ve done well. If there’s something here that ultimately brings you to a closer, personal relationship to God, then I’ve done nothing better in my life. If you find anything that you feel will bring even a modicum of assistance or inspiration to anyone else, I simply ask that you spread the word.

Here you have it, the literary GPS of my inner thoughts. I thank you, in advance for accompanying me on this trip. What? Not the eloquent soliloquy you envisioned? What did you expect? I told you…I’m not a writer.

Chance McLin

Introduction to Heavenly Port of Call

Quite often, God sends us angels. He sends them to comfort us, protect us, give us strength, guide us through particularly challenging times and quite simply, to reassure us that He hasn’t abandoned us. Even more often, we fail to realize having been in their presence. They don’t ‘announce’ themselves and they don’t traipse about wearing nametags or carrying placards. They don’t do it for recognition or for accolades. Atta-boys don’t thrill them and they don’t have egos.

With the world in the state it is now, it’s not hard to imagine how incredibly busy they must be. Not omnipotent, they can’t be everywhere at the same time. But, I’m not worried. When the angels are busy, God will send a human.

Katie Carstens was one of those He sent. She was the wife of a Lutheran minister, Gary Carstens (Dad) and the mother of four absolutely beautiful daughters; Alisha, Ava, Gretchen and Krista. I called her my mother and she never treated me any different. When I’d go to New York, I’d stay with them. They would commandeer a bedroom, kick the daughter out (sorry about that) and tell me, This is YOUR room. They all sat and ate dinner TOGETHER, as a family, at the dining room table and actually shared their days and their lives with one another and she always made sure that included me.

Shortly before the poem was written, God called her home…and she answered. They had since moved to Illinois and I had just started a new job and couldn’t make the memorial. Never would I be able to tell her how much she meant to me and how much she changed me. The night I found out I laid in bed, crying and talking to her. When in my silence, her voice popped into my head and said, Don’t you dare cry for me if you’re crying out of sadness. There you have it. I like to think that these are her words…on some level…I know they are.

Yeah…quite often God sends us angels. If we’re lucky…we’ll realize they’re here. If we’re blessed…we’ll know when they are.

Thank you for not hiding your wings, Katie.

 Heavenly Port of Call

(Ode to Passing)

Shed thee not, one tear for me,

If shed you do,

in sorrow.

Cast not thine eyes upon my vessel,

Inhabited, no more,

and weep.

Lest sadness fills my absence.

Not reason one,

shall sadness stir my memory,

nor sorrow, my legacy.

Abandoned may be,

my vessel,

but docked,

is now my spirit.

And freed has been, my true essence,

And only begun,

have now, my travels.

With my carriage serving as a platform,

Perfect, it was,

to jump beyond myself.

Tedious was my packing,

thorough, thought I,

was my preparation

Yet, arrive did I,

quite light,

Carrying with me only that love,

For you, which did exist,

long ‘fore the inception,

of mine journey.

The sole remnant,

of a blessed voyage taken.

Search did I for baggage,

none did I find.

Met did I,

my Guide,

And turned to Him, did I,

my question,

and together did we search,

my belongings all.

Standing before Him,

do only I possess:

Your love, caring, compassion, health, a peace that did overwhelm,

and joy…immense.

Less was I of:

Anger, illness, sadness, sorrow and pain,

In form, any.

For lost had they become,

In absolution,

along mine way.

Soon offered to me did He,

A smile… first love pure,

and outstretche’d hands,

the tour so grand.

While stood did I,

breathless.

As kiss, did He,

His child,

upon my forehead,

and widened arms, whisper,

Welcome home.

Miss me,

you shall not,

for still,

am I here.

Created each and all,

did He,

with but a thought, so mere.

Thusly,

think of me…

and I exist.

Hear my voice,

and I speak,

still.

Speak to me,

and ring do mine ears,

as taste do they still,

on the sweetness of your voices.

Need me,

and my embrace, will you feel.

Let not thy fingers point to any in blame,

above all, thyself.

None were the cause of mine leaving,

but ALL,

my reasons for being here.

Missed not,

were opportunities to say goodbye.

For goodbyes are for those,

we think to see no more.

In time have I been,

wife, mother, friend and confidant,

and for time,

a role new, do I take on.

As stand, do I,

In heaven’s wardrobe,

And adorn, do I my wings,

with each smile of yours,

per feather.

And love,

still shared,

doth thread, do I,

mine robe.

Until comes that time,

Mine eyes doth spot your dock.

and lips doth grace your being,

with kiss.

And welcome will I, then you,

To this Heavenly port of call.

Shed thee not one tear for me.

Dedicated to the loving memory of Mrs. Katie Carstens.

The Lord has you and we still miss you.

Introduction to The Reservation

In the summer of 2010, I had hit the proverbial wall as far as the book was concerned. It’s not that I