Exciting writing news!

I was thrilled by an email I received a couple of days ago: the article I wrote for Chicken Soup for the Empty Nester's Soul sold!

To say I was surprised was an understatement. Honestly I had forgotten about the submission because it had been so long.

The article is a light-hearted account describing the weird sensations and emotions that come from having a child return home and college and finding him more of a guest than just one of the family.

So when Chicken Soup for the Empty Nester's Soul comes out in August 2008, look for my article titled "The Surprise Guest."

Blessings!

Seasons of discontent

This is a devotional I wrote for a writing lesson. But I have been pondering this subject for a while. Why is it that we are all so quick to want the next best thing? That hottest gadget? The newest project? The high mountain top experiences of life? When in reality, God has called us here, in the valleys and plains to live for Him, giving Him all glory without all the excitement we crave.

Luke 21:34 (Amp.) “But take heed to yourselves and be on your guard, lest your hearts be overburdened and depressed (weighed down) with the giddiness and headache and nausea of self-indulgence, drunkenness, and worldly worries and cares pertaining to the business of this life…”

As I plucked another dead head off the late summer blooms of the marigolds in my garden, I paused. These happy yellow flowers that are so hardy to bloom from spring to frost had become little more than a chore to me. I no longer delighted in their beauty; I no longer cared for seeing their sunny faces in my garden.

As I went back to the task at hand, twisting the heads off while trying to keep the rest of the plant intact, I pondered how easily I am discontent with life.

In the dark cold months of late winter I eagerly pour over flower catalogs, oohing and aahing over the new varieties and the incredible colors. They bring light to the dreary, short days. And in the spring I am always anxiously awaiting that last frost date so I fill my garden with luscious flowers. I coddle the new plants as babies, watering and feeding diligently. By mid-summer I can look at my flowerbeds and enjoy the abundant beauty.

But by late August to early September, I am ready to move on; I am weary of this job. It is the season of my discontent.

Now I tend to the beds out of duty rather than devotion. Feeding has all but stopped. Weeding as well. Now I feel restless, and like the turning of the leaves, I too want to move on to something different. I want to let go of this task which was once a joy and now only a drudgery.

And as I paused in my picking off the dead blooms, the Lord spoke to me. I tire much too quickly of the things which should be beauty in my life, things He planted to be enjoyed and blessed by. Things I now only consider mundane, boring, menial, and unrewarding.

As I received the prick off conviction, I recognized my own careless response to the Lord. Everything He has called me to or brought into my life is there for a purpose. But how quick I am to abandon something because I’m bored or tired of it.

In our society we are all programmed to want the quick fix, the instant dinner, the fastest modem, the newest video game. If a computer is two years old, it’s ancient. We get impatient with a microwave dinner that takes two minutes instead of one. The frantic pace we run at now only beckons us on down the road of discontent. How will we ever learn to abide or endure?

As I returned to the care of my garden, I looked up, grateful for the perseverance and patience the Lord is teaching me, even in the midst of every day tasks. And I reached down to inhale once more the sweet aroma of one more bloom before turning to the next plant needing my care.

Lord, teach us to number our days as you do. Teach us to slow down, to wait upon you, and to take time to be quiet. Help us to have the perseverance to see something all the way through with joy and contentment instead of buying into the agitation of our world. You are still the God who calls to us, saying: “Be still and know that I am God.”

Blessings!

Changes

Well, we got our daughter safely moved in at school. After a hot, sweaty day of moving multiple loads up three flights of stairs, and lots of arranging, and helping, she was settled. Of course later that night her boyfriend came up to see her with the help of her suite mate, they rearranged her room again. Makes me wonder why we spent so much time doing it the first time! :P

Of course this was somewhat to be expected since she is my girl and I am one to move things around multiple times to figure out how I want a room to look. I am happy she made the room her own.

As far as emotions here ... I am doing remarkably well. Maybe it has to do with going through this once before ... maybe it's being busy with a new job ... maybe it's because she has called home at least once per day since Tuesday! Girls are certainly different than guys.

It's funny because we miss her, miss touching base about her day, yet we are all doing okay too. Even her younger sister, the poetic drama queen, said I haven't felt like crying because the heavens have been doing it for me. (It's been raining a bunch!)

Actually this time and season is such a mixture of emotions; grief because we miss our kids, knowing that life will never look the same again. And as I told the youngest, just because it's different doesn't mean it's not good too.

Yet, I also feel such pride and joy seeing our daughter stepping out into the path the Lord has for her. What an exciting time for her. New classes, new friends, new places. As I told her, it's kind of like a big, long camp. With homework!

My job is going well, still learning the ropes. It's different because while I have worked as a freelance editor for a few years, I have done only what's requested per my instructions. Now I am the one giving the directions! I have the final say-so on all the products coming across my desk. And while I like having the power to change things that need changing, it is also somewhat intimidating. Daily as I am heading to work, I am asking the Lord to anoint what I am doing, that I would be a tool used by Him for His glory alone.

Well, enough rambling for tonight.

Blessings

Updates from busy life

Interesting time at our house. So busy with the comings and goings that it seems we barely have time to catch our breath. And I wonder why I am trying to blog in the midst of this and I will come across someone who asks about it and mentions that they read it and are encouraged. So I will continue on.

In the last couple of weeks our son returned to Oklahoma. Last week our youngest started her sophomore year of high school, I started a new job, and older daughter finished working for the summer. This is our next transition. Our lovely daughter moves on campus on Tuesday.

I think I am still in denial. All the shopping is mostly done. The packing is pretty well finished. I am very excited for her and eager to hear all the wonderful things the Lord will do this year in her and through her. And I am not thinking about kissing her goodnight tonight or tomorrow night because I think I will lose it. As a matter of fact, I know I will. Kissing our kids goodnight has been such a ritual since they were babies.

Her dad always run through the familiar sleep tight, sweet dreams, see you in the morning, don't let the bed bugs bite, I love you, goodnight. Who loves you most? Jesus. And who else loves you? You do. Who is my precious little lady? I am.

My routine is from a book that we recite in unison: I love you forever, I like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.

And tomorrow night will be the last time I will say that to her on a nightly basis.

I went through this transition with my son and I find it no easier with the second child. When they return home from school, we may still say our goodnights, but the routine, the sweetness of daily familiarity is broken, never to be the same.

And so, I am dreading the goodnights. The days will be busy, full of school, work, activities. It is the bedtime when I miss my kids the most. I guess that is pretty normal for most moms. And somewhere down the road, it becomes "normal" to not have them around to say goodnight to. Sad, but true.

So I'd appreciate prayers for our transitions over the next few days and weeks.

Blessings.

One day at a time . . .

Today as I am pondering what to blog about, I am looking over at my calendar and contemplate the next few weeks.

Next week includes a graduation luncheon for our son at the Focus Institute, my youngest daughter's orientation, and our family leaving for Yellowstone. The Friday after we return, our son leaves for Oklahoma the same day as we have a end-of-summer, new college student send-off barbecue. The following Tuesday, the 7th, youngest starts school.

Then on Saturday, my older daughter has a study-prep session at the college while I have an all day Writer's Summer Camp session. On the 14th, oldest daughter moves on campus. And in between, I am trying to write, prepare for trip, paint youngest's bedroom (hopefully!), help oldest daughter sort and pack, hit doctor's appointments, and shop for all three kids for school needs.

The reason I listed all of that is to stop for a moment and ask why I allow a calendar to dictate my days and how I feel about them. I like being busy, productive. However, when I look at the full weeks ahead, I start to get stressed. But the Lord never intended for the days (or weeks) of schedules in front of us to set our moods or our days. A song I love says, "All of my days are held in Your hand, crafted into Your perfect plan."

Yes, we need to plan, but ultimately, He is the One who is to tell us what each day should contain. Each day I am learning anew how to ask Him, "Lord what would You have for me today?" As I do that, even when the calendar is full, I relax, knowing that all I have to do or take care of is what's right before me now. The next hour, next appointment, next day, will take care of itself. I only have grace for this moment.

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice! Let your gentle spirit be known to all men. The Lord is near. Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Phil. 4:4-7).

May you find rest, refreshment, and peace to walk through your days as you allow Him to show you what's to do each moment of every day.

Do You Smell?

My daughter arrived home from work, frazzled and frustrated. She is working with a young woman who is one of those prickly people who constantly send out barbs to everyone around them. Well, this day my daughter had become the unfortunate target.

The person in question started a conversation with my daughter and then began to mock her for her friendships with other coworkers, her purity, and finally her Christianity. While my daughter is well aware that there will be persecution in this world, this still took her aback. As she said, "Mom, I have never had someone spew so much hostility and venom at me for who I am." The final clincher was a childish insult hurled at my daughter: "You smell."

Well, my daughter knew she didn't smell and yet that barb found a way in under her armor. Funny how the devil can use even little things to penetrate when the full-frontal assault is failing. But God is so gracious to redeem. That night as we gathered with our church for prayer, my daughter's best friend came up behind her to give her a hug and without knowing anything of my daughter's day said to her, "You smell so sweet."

When my daughter told us what her friend had said later in the night, I just smiled. As she said, "I knew I didn't stink, and yet to hear that affirmation from someone who was unaware of my day totally disarmed it."

As we were talking, the Lord reminded me of a verse which I quickly looked up. "But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him. For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life. And who is equal to such a task?" (2 Cor. 2:14-16)

After that I had to tease my daughter, that yes, she DID smell! To that coworker, it is a smell of death, to her dear friend, the fragrance of life. And she laughed with me as we agreed that our prayer for each one of us is to be "smelly!"

Tight Places

Last Saturday my husband and I went mountain bike riding at a new state park which just recently opened south of Colorado Springs. What we had seen of trails from driving past a few weeks prior looked fairly easy. There were wide paths traversing through some beautiful meadows. Okay, I can do that. Mind you, I have only been riding a bike for about one year. The only other bike I have owned was the purple banana-seated one I got as birthday gift when I turned six or seven.

So we get to the park, and take off on one of the more narrow trails heading away from the parking lot. Not any are marked with difficulty level. Yep, you can see what's coming. After about 5-10 minutes (not the hour it seemed!) we climbed out onto a narrow, at times rocky single track trail. I don't know how to ride over rocks, I am not particularly fond of riding uphill, I HATE consticted places!

But we kept riding. I struggled a lot, battling fear and feeling completely overwhelmed. Not feelings I like. As a matter of fact, usually when I feel these emotions, I panic. Not a good thing to do on a mountain bike.

Not a good thing on skis either. This is the same feeling I get when I have tried to ski down black runs (Difficult classification!) with David and the kids in the winter. I have always maintained that the moguls (big snow-covered hills on a run) are okay if they would just spread them apart. I hate feeling trapped in the gutter (the bottoms between the hills).

And yesterday as I was pondering these things it occurred to me that this is a common fear I have in many situations ranging from physical activities to financial to emotional and spiritual. God came to set us free. He never intended for me to be bound in fear.

"It was for freedom that Christ set us free" (Gal. 5:1)
The definition of the word freedom, eleutheria, here is freedom, generosity, independence. It is a distinctive blessing of grace. The exact opposite of slavery or having to follow a prescribed course. The Lord also showed me this is related to trust.

"When I am afraid, I will put my trust in You" (Ps. 56:3).
The word for trust, batach, means to attach oneself, to trust, confide in, feel safe, be confident, secure, careless. It represents the feeling of well-being from knowing the rug won't be pulled out from under you.

I still need to have both of these worked into me because no matter what the circumstance may be, no matter how tightly constrained I may feel, the Lord always has freedom for me that flows as a result of the grace I receive in trusting Him.

And by the way, I actually gained some new skills on the bike and surprisingly enjoyed most of the ride through beautiful country, taking it slow and learning along the journey.

Blessings.

Mouse in the house

O little mouse,
Why are you hiding in my house?


Cute, isn't he? (she?) Problem was this little guy somehow found a way into the house. I had just climbed in bed early, weary from a busy day. My youngest daughter was getting ready for bed as well and my husband was working on his laptop in our family room.

I hear the call, Kerry can you come down here? I need your help. Grumbling mildly to myself about climbing back out of bed, youngest daughter and I head downstairs. My hubby is very carefully setting down his laptop and getting off the sofa. "Are you hurt?" I asked at his ginger movements. "Nope, there's a mouse hiding under the entertainment center."

After shutting the dog in our bedroom, my husband uses a broom and yardstick to "sweep" the little mouse toward the daughter and I who are trying to shoo it toward the door. The mouse ran out and back under after spotting my hopping feet. (I'm not scared of any old little mouse, it's just that rapid scuttling, not knowing where he's going to go!) At this point our daughter is draped across the kitchen counter looking down at the floor. Lot of help she is!

Well, after doing this dance for a few times, the mouse decided to make a run for it. Only he didn't run for the open door, nope. He headed under the stove. Well at least he's contained we thought. My husband swept under the stove with the yardstick. No mouse. Swept again. No mouse. I know I saw him go under there. David finally pulled the drawer out and looked. No mouse. Where could he be?

David decided he better look in the drawer amid the pots and pans. So he took the drawer outside (smart man!) and started lifting out pans. Sure enough, there was the little guy hiding terrified. David tipped the drawer and the mouse jumped free and scrambled away.

We breathed a sigh of relief. Until I realized the mouse had been in the pans!! Everything had to be sterilized that night, of course. So no early to bed that night. But at least the mouse was out!

Perspective

This morning I spent some time going through an old journal I wrote over the last two years. Amazing the things I have learned, the things I have been healed of, the things I am still stuggling with. I see the prayers over quitting my job to be home more for my family as I am now considering going back to work. I see things I prayed over my son as he prepared and left for college; some answered already, some still in process. I read the things I asked of the Lord for each of my girls. Some complete, some just beginning to blossom, some no hint of yet.

And through it all, I saw the Father's faithful hand, guiding, encouraging, strengthening, supporting. How good He is to us. There were many things I prayed over and over and didn't think I saw any change. But now, two years later, I can see the change.

Day in, day out life has a tendency to clutter our view. I think that the distance we can gain either from time away from a situation or from a new physical location can help us to see more clearly, to gain new perspectives. In the moment, I am usually reacting to the situation or my own emotions. With a different perspective, I can begin to disearn those things that I made wise choices in and those that I may have been overreacting to. Only a different perspective offers me that vision.

Sometimes the Lord also uses others to bring that full vision to us. As I wrote of earlier this week, time spent with family and friends helps us to pick through the messes we can find ourselves in and offer us a new outlook with renewed focus and passion.

I would encourage each one to take time to look back to see how far you've come. And how far you still have to go. Just remember the Creator is busy at work in your life, adding another color here, another line there. Using everything, the good, the difficult, to fashion a great work of art for Him to delight in.

“My life is but a weaving between my Lord and me. I cannot choose the colors, nor all the pattern see. Sometimes He chooses sorrow and I, in foolish pride, forget He sees the upper and I the underside.

Not till the loom is silent and the shuttles cease to fly, will He reveal the pattern or tell the reason why. The dark threads are as useful in a weaver's skillful hand, as the threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned.”
(Author unknown)

Blessings.

Growing in different directions

It's amazing to watch your children grow and change and explore new areas. Both of our girls have just embarked on new endeavors which are at opposite ends of the spectrum.

Our oldest daughter has begun making a quilt. I have been fascinated to watch her do this from choosing the fabrics (which went against what I would have imagined for her—surprise there is NO purple!) and seeing the excitement she has to work at this. Mind you, I am not a seamstress in any way shape or form. I feel quite proud to sew back on a button that has fallen off. My dear daughter has just taken a sewing class for the first time and then taken on the task of making a quilt for her dorm room which she'll be moving into in a little over a month! But she is furiously measuring and cutting and sewing away in her small amounts of free time. And I am standing a little in awe. I have pondered how in times past women would gather to quilt together, having work time and fellowship time combined.

Our youngest daughter has finally had the bicycling bug bite her. She was so excited last night to come home with her new bike that she bought with her own money. I am eager to see where this takes her. She has always been the little couch potato. The few times she was out on a bike, she did not enjoy it at all. But a funny thing happens when you work all day for months with people who not only like something but are avid about it. It has made me stop and think that is why the Lord tells us to not forsake the gathering together with other believers. When you are around someone who is eager and excited about something, it has a way of rubbing off on us and actually changing our perceptions as well.

Very interesting to watch both girls take off and try new things and also to see how fellowship is integral to every area of our lives.

Pictures from RMNP

This picture is of the beautiful wildflowers that can be seen at Rocky Mountain National Park. We never saw quite this many, though we did seem whole meadows full of yellow flowers.
The second photo is of Alberta Falls. Amazing the amount of water that is thundering down those falls.
The final shot is of Morraine Lake. It was a great example of the terrain.

Back in the saddle again . . .

Hello out there! I am finally back to blogging and I think I am finally slowing down a little, though that is a relative thing these days.

Many thoughts to try to communicate. Last weekend my husband and I celebrated our 22nd anniversary. What a blessing it was to get away to Estes Park. Though it was only for 2 1/2 days, it was restful, joyful, meaningful, playful, romantic. From roaming the shops in town, to romantic evenings at the bed and breakfast, to deep discussions, to hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park, it was all perfect. In a nutshell, it was hard to come home. :)

The absolute beauty at Rocky Mountain National Park was amazing. I hadn't been there in probably 10 years and the stunning vistas and clear lakes reflecting the jagged mountain peaks moved me deeply. There is something unique to being out in nature. It calms the heart and mind. It soothes and refreshes the soul. I hadn't realized how much I had missed that or how much I need it. Even back at our cabin at the B & B, we had some time to read our Bibles and reflect before our breakfast was delivered each morning. Sitting out on our little deck, basking in the morning sunshine, surrounded by rugged mountains and watching wildlife forage just a few feet away restored parts of me I didn't know were missing.

Being out in nature, away from the everyday demands of life, where it is quiet, I can hear so much more clearly and I get glimpses of how great our God is. The awesome Creator of the universe cares so deeply for the details in all of His creation. I saw incredible waterfalls thundering with tremendous power. I also saw delicate blue flowers gently swaying alongside a creek. From the gigantic boulders and imposing mountains to the quiet streams bordered by lacy ferns, I saw the hand of our Creator God. He delights in the details of creating beauty. He made this world for His pleasure and yet, it brings pleasure to us as well. How awesome to know that He created each of us with the same attention to detail for both the large and small things in our lives: from the obvious gifts to the smallest freckle hidden below our ear. And He delights in every part of us.

Blessings.

Life updates

Well, we came through another graduation with its myriad of emotions. Amazing how proud, sad, happy, excited, exhausted we can be all at the same time. There has been so much to deal with from extended family visits to our son moving to an apartment to college orientation for the new graduate! Talk about a whirlwind!

This week will be spent getting back on track for the summer. Work, writing, volunteering ... gotta find my summer schedule in the midst of this all. In addition to running my youngest to her job and activities this summer. I'll post more as I get my "writing legs" back under me this week.

Blessings

Fly by writing updates

Quick updates on how the Lord is encouraging my writing:

First I got my last lesson back from my mentor (which I posted here previously) and she said it was ready for publication!! So after graduation stuff, I will be looking for a market for this. :)

I also heard back from MOMSense magazine about an article I wrote about my two nephews. They didn't buy it at this time, but want to hang on to it for possible future use. I have to notify them if I get it out elsewhere. So I will also try marketing that article around too.

God is so gracious to encourage me during this hectic week. For those reading this, also pray for my back as I am feeling a little "tweak" this morning and cannot afford for it to go out this week. Now I am off to get going on the chores at hand today (carefully!) in preparation for graduation stuff later in the week.

Blessings!

Preparations, meditations

This continues to be whirlwind few weeks as the end of the school year winds down. While we haven't been running every night, there still seems to be a long list of to-do items.

Our girls are preparing/finishing finals, our son is home and looking for work, I am trying to finish up a couple of freelance jobs before the week ends, and then I can try to get the house together for family arriving next week. I am going to begin volunteering at a magazine once a week so I can learn more of the details of writing for one, so I have been lining that up as well.

As far as my own writing goes, I have been bogged down by both busyness and emotions and haven't gotten any done recently. My son said something to me that jarred me: "Write even if everything you are writing will need to be trashed and you have to start over."

All I could think is what a waste! I can objectively see the value of what he's saying, however my practical nature recoils in horror at the waste that it could turn out to be. Then my pastor reminded me that the Lord said to write. He didn't tell me I would be successful, just to write. Okay, back to that obedience thing again. Sometimes I wonder how long it will take for me to receive all the Lord desires to do in me and through me.

I probably won't be on much the next week or so with family here and graduation. Have I said how incredibly proud and blessed I am for my daughter?? The Lord has fashioned for Himself a valiant, compassionate, beautiful, woman of God. How grateful I am for His faithfulness in her life. I am so grateful that she now considers me a friend and not just her mom. :D

I was considering a mother's heart in the midst of Mother's Day, as well as this season of our daughter graduating. Paul speaks of pouring out his life as a drink offering: "But even if I am being poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrifice and service of your faith, I rejoice and share my joy with you all"(Phil. 2:17).

This is truly what a mother does from the moment she holds her baby. From the two a.m. feedings, to rocking the sick child through the night, to letting them go to school for the first time. From the sacrificing of sleep, nutrition, time, and energy, a mom pours her life into her children. And we do so willingly. (At least most of the time :P).

Now my days are not sacrificed so much in time, although that still happens. No, my sacrifice and pouring myself out is now more in prayer. My children are either adults, or almost there, and they no longer need mom to hold their hand or tell them how to do something. But I can still pour my life into theirs as I intercede for them and for the decisions they are making.

I am not only proud of each of my children for what they have accomplished at this point in their lives, but for the people they are. God has done a marvelous work and I know that many times it is in spite of me rather than because of anything I did. Our Father is so faithful. I trust Him to continue to strengthen and encourage each of them throughout their lives. They belong to Him, may He receive all the glory.

Breathing Prayer

Prayer is hard work, no doubt about it. When Paul admonished us to pray without ceasing, visions of nuns or monks cloistered away from the world, down on their knees praying in absolute silence is what comes to mind. However, I am finding that praying without ceasing is becoming something that is like breathing.

Lately there have been several situations in the lives of loved ones that have been distressing. Issues of the heart, health concerns, anxiety over choices being made have all crowded my heart and mind constantly.

There have been nights of little or no sleep, days of busyness weighted down by the intercession I have been called to do. And I have found that when the burden is great, I am praying without ceasing. I am breathing prayer.

As I lay in bed awake at night, I doze off with prayers on my lips. As I roll over and inhale, another prayer goes up. During the day, as I work, my mind is occupied with the task at hand. But my heart is still praying. How do I know this? Because whenever I stop to “catch my breath, ” whenever my mind stops just for a second, there is prayer going out of me, just as I exhale each time. I am breathing prayer.

Just yesterday I received a copy of Pray! magazine and one article is titled, "Breathing Prayer." I found it an interesting "coincidence" that this article showed up at the same time that I had been contemplating this. The author's focus was different than what the Lord had been showing me though. This pastor was seeing how the act of breathing could be a reminder of allowing the Holy Spirit to live and work more freely in his life. He quoted a prayer/poem by A.B. Simpson, who was founder of the Christian and Missionary Alliance:

"Breathing Out and Breathing In"
Jesus, Breathe Thy Spirit on me,
Teach me how to breathe Thee in,
Help me pour into Thy bosom
All my life of self and sin.

I am breathing out my own life,
That I may be filled with Thine;
Letting go my strength and weakness,
Breathing in Thy life divine.

Breathing out my sinful nature,
Thou hast borne it all for me;
Breathing in Thy cleansing fullness,
Finding all my life in Thee.

I am breathing out my sorrow,
On Thy kind and gentle breast;
Breathing in Thy joy and comfort,
Breathing in Thy peace and rest.

I am breathing out my longings,
In Thy list'ning loving ear,
I am breathing in Thy answers,
Stilling every doubt and fear.

I am breathing every moment,
Drawing all my life from Thee;
Breath by breath I live upon Thee,
Blessed Spirit, breathe in me.

Good stuff to contemplate. Blessings.

More on writing

Yesterday's article was insightful for me to write, but also to see the responses of those around me. When my oldest daughter read the first paragraph, she was horrified. "Mom, you really did that and thought that??" Yep. There is my dirt.

Her response hit me on a couple of levels. First, that gratefully she was shocked that I could respond that way. I take that to mean that I don't normally function that way anymore. Praise God! The other thing was that the environment she has grown up in has taught her the honor and blessing it is to serve. How different from the self-absorbed world in which I lived. God is so gracious.

Another thought that has crossed my mind of late is that writing, whether fiction or nonfiction, requires a deep level of honesty and vulnerability. By honesty, I mean really dealing with deep emotions and the truth of how ugly life here can be and how glorious our Father is. This, at least to me, is a very vulnerable place.

As I have written in the past, growing up I thought the most important things in life, the way to succeed was to be practical and focus all my energy there. In doing so, I learned to stuff things down and didn't allow myself to learn how to deal with deep emotions. They remained, but hidden. And when they do come bursting out, usually at inopportune times, it can be messy. I don't really like messy.

So part of the struggle in writing is learning how to express those deep things in my own heart and on the page. And that makes me feel vulnerable. But I am learning that the more I write, the easier it becomes to allow those emotions to flow onto the paper. And that is what makes the word on the page come to life—when it touches us. When we read something and we are moved to laugh, cry, act. That is what I want my writing to be, an instrument to touch hearts and change lives.

Blessings.

Article

This is an article I am working on for one of my Guild lessons. It still needs some editing and tweaking. Just figured the more I get "out there," the better.

As a young newlywed working full time, I was approached by a woman at church to bring a meal to someone who was ill. I smugly refused, stating that I worked full time and didn’t have the time. Let those who don’t work full time do this duty, I thought. I remember the sad look the other woman gave me as she turned away. I stuffed down the conviction, and excused myself that she was judging me.

I continued my self-absorbed life for another year or so before the Lord got my attention again, in a much more dramatic and personal way. By this time I was pregnant for the first time. Life was proceeding according to plan; my husband and I were working and planning for the arrival of our baby. About two months before my due date, I began to leak amniotic fluid. I called my doctor who sent me to the birth center to be checked to verify the leakage. The doctor put me on a medication to prevent premature labor and ordered bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy.

While a few days of lounging sounded heavenly when I had been working full time, the days now stretched on endlessly. My husband was working long hours in construction, coming home many nights too tired to do more than shower, eat, and hit the sack. The house was dirty. Dinners consisted of whatever fast food my husband picked up on the way home. The long weeks stretched before us, lonely and overwhelming.

At the end of the first week of my internment I received a surprising call. We had just begun attending a small new church. In fact I had attended only once, but knew two or three families there. The friend said that the ladies of the church knew I was on bed rest, that my husband was working long hours, and they wanted to bring us meals. Not just for a few days, but until I was released to be up again.

I was incredulous. Why would these ladies, some of whom I hadn’t even met, want to bring us meals? As meal after meal arrived, night after night, I was humbled again and again. These ladies brought us meals five nights a week for seven weeks.

Knock, knock. “Hi I’m Julie,” “I’m Carol,” “I’m Lauri.” Strangers at my door, coming to serve me. When a lady named Kim came one night, I began to question her about why she was bringing us meals. She was single, worked full time as a nurse, was involved in music. Her response floored me because she gave no thought to herself, “Because you have a need.”

After she left, her answer echoed in my heart over and over. All of these women gave not out of their convenience, but because of our need. I cried that night as I repented of my own selfishness. I had only looked at what I could do when it had been convenient for me. I realized that night the Lord wanted me to give when He called because of the need, not when it fit my timetable or what I felt comfortable or even adequate to do.

Now, twenty years later, I am ashamed of how selfish I was, and can still be at times. But the Lord has graciously showed me the joy in serving, the gift I receive when I am willing to serve. This is true love and I believe it is what the Lord commanded us when He said to lay down our lives for one another.

For over a year now the Lord has shown me this first hand. I have taken meals to a friend who has multiple sclerosis and whose husband has recently gone through radiation treatment. Both of them have been at a place that even a simple meal was more than they were capable of managing. But the need was waiting to be met. Is it convenient? No. Is it always easy? No. But there is great need all around each of us and we don’t always know where our gifts of service will have the greatest impact in the hearts around us. Sometimes it’s as simple as taking someone a meal.

When I look back at how far the Lord has brought me. Wow. I'm sometimes amazed that anyone even liked me back then. And I wonder what "dirt" do I still have clinging to me today? In another 20 years, what will I look back on in awe of His redemption? Praise the Lord, He has promised to complete the work He has begun in all of us.

Writing on...

Yesterday I spent a good portion of the day working on a lesson which requires me to analyze an article. I am finding that while there is some basic structure to most articles, they don't all fit the format. Kind of a "duh" moment. Just like in art, there are rules, but the rules are there to lend structure not to kill creativity.

I am once again struck with how the Word applies to every area of our lives: the letter of the law kills, but the Spirit gives life. Problems arise when someone like me, who loves routine and structure, tries to abide by the letter of the law and finds that the life has been sucked right out of whatever I am working on. Okay, Lord, I get the reminder once again, I have to abide in your Spirit and follow His leading. The "rules" for any area are really only guidelines, not unchangeable laws.

My husband pointed me to a recent post by Mike Duran which I read today. It was certainly food for thought. I am still learning how to allow people in to be those supporting my writing. I have shared it only sparingly with a select few. I think partly from fear of being laughed at and partly from fear of being held accountable to actually do something. Flip sides of the same coin. Silly, really. But who can understand our warped minds and hearts? :P

Also this post caused me to consider that some of what I have been going through lately could actually be attack from the enemy who doesn't want me to write. Which makes me want to write all the more, since that confirms what the Lord has called me to do.

Another good reminder came from the post by Rachel Anne Ridge on Writer Interrupted. She wrote a analogy based on her donkey and how he has gotten stuck in ruts of his own choosing because he never looks up. Hmmmm . . .that can also certainly describe me: a creature of habit. Okay, I see the point the Lord is trying to make with me today. Gotta look up, gotta walk freely in the Spirit, dare to try to new things, and LOOK UP! :)

Senior Breakfast

Yesterday we attended our daughter’s senior breakfast that included a capping ceremony. Before the ceremony, each student attending (which unfortunately wasn’t the whole class) was asked pick an individual who has been important in her life and to write whatever she wanted to express to that person. During the ceremony, the student invited that special person to put his cap on while his appreciation for that person was read aloud.

Our daughter chose her dad, which is no surprise since she is definitely a daddy’s girl. I was thrilled to be the one taking pictures. My daughter has been generous this year with expressing her appreciation to us, so what she wrote was only confirmation to us. But what moved me to tears was the sight of seeing over 125 young adults telling someone thanks.

There were the obviously moving ones: the daughter who thanked her dad who was her role model. She wrote that he has missed many important events in her life because he is serving our nation in the army. She was grateful he was here for this one.

Or the young lady who wrote proudly of how her mom has defied the doctor’s prognosis to her when he said she’d never see one child graduate from high school due to congenital heart failure. The daughter exulted, “And I’m number two!”

Or the student who picked her fifth grade teacher because she had encouraged the student when she was shy and insecure. The girl wrote that her teacher taught her it was okay to offer an answer that might be wrong and to keep learning through that too. There were students who picked a Young Life director, former and current teachers, an aunt, a sister, a brother, a grandmother; people who were instrumental in moving these teens forward in life.

There were countless students honoring dads, saying they were their heroes because they taught their sons and daughters to work hard, to believe in themselves, to stand strong even when times are tough, to dream, knowing that the parent will always support them.

There were students who honored moms for always being there, for being their best friend, for always being available to talk, for requiring them to do well in school, for believing the student could achieve when he didn’t think he could.

There were the funny comments too: You always told me, I still like you no matter what anyone else says about you. Or, you made me get out of bed every morning. Or, you kept pushing me even when I was a brat about it. And my favorite: You put diapers on my dirty behind, Mom, so I figured you could handle this cap too.

The thing that moved me the most wasn’t necessarily the specific sentiments that the kids expressed. The amazing thing to me was jock or drama queen, nerd or Mohawk-haired skater, valedictorian or the student barely getting to graduation, every one of these adolescents was grateful to at least one adult who had affected their lives and helped them reach this milestone.

The significance was a message we adults need to understand: Our efforts are not in vain. It matters every time I spend time with, talk with, hang out with, require of the kids in my world. They need adults who will believe in them and require of them, adults who can push them to give their best. In this mixed-up world we live in, so many voices are telling the youth today that they will not succeed, that their efforts don’t matter.

This is what I heard loud and clear at the breakfast: it is our voices they really want to hear and they really do listen to. They hear us even when they rebel against advice given, even when they seem to ignore it. Every investment I make in a young person’s life has lasting value even if I never see it.