pessimistic. The same can be said about rich people and poor people. I know some people who have very little when it comes to earthly goods and yet they are content. And there are many rich people who are angry and depressed. We've all heard stories of rich people committing suicide."
Kovacs nodded. She couldn't identify with the suicide part, but she did understand those who are angry and dissatisfied. She was living with one such man.
"Happiness has more to do with attitude," Murphy told her. "Actually, I think happiness is the end result of having a positive attitude toward life, even in the midst of
62
struggles. Someone has said that happiness is like a butterfly. When we chase it, it seems to always elude us. But when we busy ourselves with our responsibilities, the butterfly of happiness lands on our shoulders."
"Well, my butterfly must be taking a vacation," Kovacs said with a wry smile.
Murphy could tell that there was more behind her quick retort. He knew it would be best to let her talk.
"Today, when you mentioned Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the fiery furnace and Daniel in the lions' den, it brought back memories. My grandfather used to tell me stories about them. He was a very religious man. He was warm, caring, and funny. I guess as I think about it now, he was probably a happy man."
"Did you go to church in your younger years?"
"Yes, back in Michigan."
"Do you still go?"
Kovacs paused, then explained, "No. I stopped in junior high school. My father was killed by a drunk driver, and I couldn't understand why a loving God would do such a thing. I guess I got angry with God and stopped going."
"That happens to a lot of people."
"You mentioned judgment and conscience today. That was really heavy. I haven't thought about God using our conscience."
"You sound discouraged."
"More like disillusioned. I don't think it's possible to be happy--at least for me."
"I think that God may be trying to talk to you."
"I'm sorry, Dr. Murphy, but now you are beginning to
63
sound like one of those religious nuts. I don't hear voices. It's always bothered me when people say they hear God talking to them. It sounds like they need to be in an insane asylum somewhere."
"Well, let me try to help you understand. Did you ever fly a kite with your father?"
"Yes, many times."
"Do you remember when you would let out the string, how the kite would rise? You could hear the paper rattling in the wind. Sometimes it would rise so high that it almost disappeared out of sight."
"I remember that."
"When the kite was out of sight, how could you tell that it was still there?"
Kovacs looked a little puzzled for a moment. Then she said slowly, "I guess by the pull of the string. It meant the wind was still blowing the kite."
"Right. That's sort of how it is when God speaks to you," Murphy explained with a smile. "You can't see Him. He is out of sight. And you can't audibly hear His voice because He is too far away. But you can feel His loving tug on the strings of your heart. He does this when you read the Bible. He also does this when you listen to the still small voice of your conscience. That's how God speaks to you."
"That's a different concept from hearing voices."
"Yes, it is. Let me ask you a question. Do you feel the tug of God on the strings of your heart today?"
Stephanie Kovacs's blue eyes began to fill with tears. She turned away from Murphy quickly, but he knew he had given her food for thought.
64
THIRTEEN
Jerusalem, 605 B.C.
BLOOD-CURDLING CRIES could be heard everywhere when Nebuchadnezzar's final assault began. With his archers focusing on the soldiers protecting the wall, hundreds of men were dropping in place.
He had not been successful in the direct use of siege ladders, catapults, or battering rams. His change of strategy took almost a year to complete. Now a dirt ramp up to the lowest part of the wall surrounding Jerusalem provided the breach that was needed.
His well-trained soldiers ran up
Kovacs nodded. She couldn't identify with the suicide part, but she did understand those who are angry and dissatisfied. She was living with one such man.
"Happiness has more to do with attitude," Murphy told her. "Actually, I think happiness is the end result of having a positive attitude toward life, even in the midst of
62
struggles. Someone has said that happiness is like a butterfly. When we chase it, it seems to always elude us. But when we busy ourselves with our responsibilities, the butterfly of happiness lands on our shoulders."
"Well, my butterfly must be taking a vacation," Kovacs said with a wry smile.
Murphy could tell that there was more behind her quick retort. He knew it would be best to let her talk.
"Today, when you mentioned Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the fiery furnace and Daniel in the lions' den, it brought back memories. My grandfather used to tell me stories about them. He was a very religious man. He was warm, caring, and funny. I guess as I think about it now, he was probably a happy man."
"Did you go to church in your younger years?"
"Yes, back in Michigan."
"Do you still go?"
Kovacs paused, then explained, "No. I stopped in junior high school. My father was killed by a drunk driver, and I couldn't understand why a loving God would do such a thing. I guess I got angry with God and stopped going."
"That happens to a lot of people."
"You mentioned judgment and conscience today. That was really heavy. I haven't thought about God using our conscience."
"You sound discouraged."
"More like disillusioned. I don't think it's possible to be happy--at least for me."
"I think that God may be trying to talk to you."
"I'm sorry, Dr. Murphy, but now you are beginning to
63
sound like one of those religious nuts. I don't hear voices. It's always bothered me when people say they hear God talking to them. It sounds like they need to be in an insane asylum somewhere."
"Well, let me try to help you understand. Did you ever fly a kite with your father?"
"Yes, many times."
"Do you remember when you would let out the string, how the kite would rise? You could hear the paper rattling in the wind. Sometimes it would rise so high that it almost disappeared out of sight."
"I remember that."
"When the kite was out of sight, how could you tell that it was still there?"
Kovacs looked a little puzzled for a moment. Then she said slowly, "I guess by the pull of the string. It meant the wind was still blowing the kite."
"Right. That's sort of how it is when God speaks to you," Murphy explained with a smile. "You can't see Him. He is out of sight. And you can't audibly hear His voice because He is too far away. But you can feel His loving tug on the strings of your heart. He does this when you read the Bible. He also does this when you listen to the still small voice of your conscience. That's how God speaks to you."
"That's a different concept from hearing voices."
"Yes, it is. Let me ask you a question. Do you feel the tug of God on the strings of your heart today?"
Stephanie Kovacs's blue eyes began to fill with tears. She turned away from Murphy quickly, but he knew he had given her food for thought.
64
THIRTEEN
Jerusalem, 605 B.C.
BLOOD-CURDLING CRIES could be heard everywhere when Nebuchadnezzar's final assault began. With his archers focusing on the soldiers protecting the wall, hundreds of men were dropping in place.
He had not been successful in the direct use of siege ladders, catapults, or battering rams. His change of strategy took almost a year to complete. Now a dirt ramp up to the lowest part of the wall surrounding Jerusalem provided the breach that was needed.
His well-trained soldiers ran up
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