Profoundly Annoying

Is it just me?

It seems when I’m in the dumps, feeling defeated or am thinking about throwing in the towel, everyone around me is on a spiritual upswing.

Does this happen to you?

I want to whine. They encourage.
I want to wallow. They point out all the great things going on in my life.
I want to wail. They make me laugh.

Recently, I had a bad day. Well, not really a bad day. A bad couple of hours. Which, when you look at it in black and white, seems ridiculous to complain about. But I’m pregnant and hormonal and I had worked myself into a crying puddle of misery.

It’s embarrassing how often this happens.

I let my husband know about a disappointment I had just suffered. I was trying to be tough, and not let on how much it hurt. I didn’t fool him and after a few minutes of him sending me encouraging texts and me replying with whiny texts, he sent this:

I think ur exactly where God wants u 2b . . . which may differ from where u’d like 2b.

Profound isn’t it.

Profoundly annoying—that’s what it is.

Especially when I can’t dispute the truth of the words.

So often, where I’d like to be is clearly not where He wants me to be. Who knows why? Maybe I’m not ready to be there. Or, taking the focus off me (I know, novel concept), maybe there are others who aren’t ready for me to be there yet. God’s timing is perfect. And not just for me. But for those I love. My husband, children, friends and family.

Taking it further—what if there are people I have yet to meet, people who God intends for me to minister to in some way—who I’d miss if I jumped ahead to where I’d like to be?

Taking it even further—what if I never get “there”? What if the journey I’m on doesn’t take me “there” but “elsewhere”?

Gulp.


If you’re waiting on a brilliant answer to these questions, I can’t help you. I don’t have one!

I’m just hanging out here.

Exactly where I’m supposed to be.

And learning to live in daily surrender to the One who knows where I’m headed.


image courtesy of photobucket.com

Read More

Call to Me

A few months ago I had the opportunity to spend the day in bed.

By "opportunity" I mean the nurse told me to stay in bed. All day.

I was not pleased.

Neither were my children.

My two-year old, in particular, did not appreciate that Mommy was not at his beck and call. Daddy was, and he was doing a fine job, but my son has grown quite accustomed to my immediate response to his cries for help.

As the day wore on, I heard my son in the other room.

“Mommy!”

“Mommy!

“Mommy!”

Every part of my being yearned to run to him and fix whatever was causing him to cry out to me. It didn’t matter what he needed—a hug, a smile, a toy just out of reach—the need didn’t matter.

My child had my attention.

He just didn’t know it.

My Abba took that moment to remind me that He feels the same way about me. With one big difference. He always knows what I need. He knows exactly how best to meet the need. And He is always able to meet my need.

When I cry out to Him and He doesn’t answer immediately—or the way I want—I tend to assume He isn’t listening.

But I always have His attention.

And He wants me to know it.

Psalm 145: 18-19—The LORD is nigh unto all them that call upon Him, to all that call upon Him in truth. He will fulfill the desire of them that fear him: He also will hear their cry, and will save them. (KJV)



image courtesy of photobucket.com

Read More

Stuck in the Middle

I’m not a big fan of New Year’s Resolutions.

Probably because I’ve never seen one through to the end of the year.

But there is something about January that makes me reflective. Something that makes me want to evaluate where I am and where I’m going. And something about it always makes me feel unsettled.

Probably because I’m never happy with the reflection.

• I’m not the child of God I want to be.
• I’m not the wife I want to be.
• I’m not the mother I want to be.
• I’m not the daughter, sister or friend I want to be.
• I am most definitely not the writer I want to be.

And there is a part of me that wants to quit.

Not because I don’t love writing. Not that quitting would mean quitting writing.

But it would mean pulling away from the writing community, not trying to get anything published and not being on any sort of deadline. It would mean writing what I felt like, when I felt like it.

It would be so much easier.

And for those of you who know me personally and know the level of chaos that is the current definition of my life, that might not seem like a bad idea.

This isn’t the first time I’ve thought about it. But it is the first time I’ve looked down the road and examined each path. One way is fairly smooth. The other. Well, I can’t see more than a few feet down the other, so I have no idea what happens if I go that way.

There’s really no question about which way I’ll go, or even which way is the right way. But it’s tempting to hang out in the middle for a while. Not moving forward in either direction. Stagnant. Stuck.

Which is where I’ve been for several weeks.

I’m tired. My life is insane.

I would like to quit.

But on a small board near my desk are two quotes, one from Beth Moore’s study of Esther and one from the Apostle Paul.

• I am not called to an easy life. I am called to a purposeful life.
• Rom. 11:29 - For the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable. (ESV)

I’ve been stuck in the middle far too long. It's time to get back in the game.

What about you?


image courtesy of photobucket.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Read More

Book Review - The Brotherhood

I received an Advanced Reader Copy (ARC) of The Brotherhood by Jerry B. Jenkins several weeks ago. I’ve never snagged an ARC before and I was thrilled to get this one. The only requirement?

Review the book.

The problem? Who am I to review Jerry B. Jenkins? I mean, honestly. He's written more than 175 books and sold over 70 million. He writes great stories and he’s passionate about training the next generation of Christian writers, including me.

But I said I would review it and my plan was to approach the book as a textbook, look for the things he does well and learn from them.

If I’m going to do that, I’ll have to read it again.

Because somewhere around page 50, as tears streamed and my heart ached for the main character, Boone Drake (love the name) suffering through unimaginable loss, I lost my focus. I forgot to pay attention to writing technique. I didn’t care that I was supposed to review the book.

I cared about Boone. And Jack. And Pastor Sosa. And Haeley.

Now, I don’t want my tears to throw you off. The Brotherhood isn’t chick-lit. The Brotherhood is a police thriller, complete with gangs, organized crime, guns, drugs and the cops who put their lives on the line every day.

It’s also a book that doesn’t shy away from a true-to-life crisis of faith. Jenkins explores the hard questions that we all wrestle with to some degree. The kinds of questions we all should wrestle with at some point in our lives but try to avoid. Why does God allow tragedy? How much control do we have over our lives? Why aren’t good people rewarded for doing good while bad people seem to be rewarded for evil? Can God forgive those who have committed the most heinous crimes? And why would He bother?

I appreciated the way Jenkins answers these tough questions. They aren’t answered with neat, tidy platitudes. They are wrestled with by characters grasping at faith when life has thrown them to the ground. For me, that’s important. I know this is fiction, but I want my fiction to feel real, and these characters—and their faith or lack thereof—are real. Sometimes painfully so.

The Brotherhood is scheduled for release in February and is the first book in a planned three-part series.

I wonder if there’s any chance I can get an ARC for the next book? I hate waiting and I can’t wait to find out what happens next!

Read More

Review - The Five Love Languages

I'm guest blogging today over at The Write Conversation. Please visit me there!

As a side note, I took the assessment at the back of the book to determine what my love language is.

Turns out I'm even weirder than originally anticipated.

Most people have 1.

Some people have 2.

In true over-achieving form . . . I have 3.

The other two, apparently, barely register with me. It was a very interesting exercise and if you haven't read the book and don't know what your love language is, I highly recommend it!

Read More

My Christmas Prayer

I have a confession.

Sometimes, I read a book so fast the first time through, that as soon as I’m done, I need to re-read it.

Why?

Because I have the patience of a gnat? Possibly.

Mainly because I am so engrossed in the story, so engaged by the characters, so entranced by the plot . . . that I HAVE to know how it ends. As soon as possible.

I have never read the last page first. That’s cheating.

But speed-reading is perfectly acceptable.

And I can read fast. Very fast.

So I zip through the book, heart racing, chewing off one nail at a time, barely stopping for food, until, at last, I reach the end and all my questions have been answered.

Or have they?

Because often, in my rush, I miss stuff.

Which is why I have to go back and re-read at a slower pace. I savor each word and examine each plotline and I enjoy the journey.

Because I know how it ends.

I think sometimes I live my life this way. I can’t enjoy the moment because I’m trying to figure out how it’s all going to work out. How it’s going to end.

I can’t relax into motherhood because I’m thinking five, ten, twenty years ahead. I can’t enjoy the writing process because I’m wondering about publication. I can’t enjoy the Season because I have so much to do by Saturday!

All that, combined with my own pregnancy, has had me thinking a lot about Mary.

She knew, far better than we, the consequences of accepting God’s will for her life. When the angel said “You’ll conceive and bear a son” she knew the gossip, the looks, the potential stoning, that would follow.

But beyond that, she didn’t have a clue. She didn’t know she’d watch Him grow and then someday watch Him die.

Her response to the angel?

Be it unto me, according to thy word.

My guess is that this response is the reason Mary was chosen.

And it does make me wonder.

How many things do I miss out on because I don’t respond the same way?

I analyze . . . ok . . . over-analyze. I think . . . ok . . . over-think.

But how often do I accept?

Not often enough.

My Christmas prayer this year?

That I can say “Be it unto me, according to Thy word.”

And mean it.

Image courtesy of photobucket.com

Read More

The Best Story Ever

My son is two and he loves to help me around the house. But the reality is that when James helps—whether it’s with the dishes or the laundry or the vacuuming—it takes me at least twice as long and often creates more of a mess than we started with.

So, why do I do it? Why bother?

I was thinking about this while I mopped up several huge puddles of water in the kitchen floor that were the direct result of my little man's "assistance" and I remembered a quote I heard a while back at church.

“God doesn’t need you. But he chooses to use you.”

I’ll give you a minute to let that sink in.

So, why does He do it? Why bother?

He doesn’t need me to write a book or a devotion. He doesn’t need me to teach a Sunday school class or minister to a friend or pray for a hurting child.

He’s God. He spoke the universe into existence. So why would God, in His omnipotence, bother using humans to accomplish His will?

We quit. We get bored. We wander off to play with our toys and forget we said we’d help.

Or, even worse, we think we’re actually responsible. We shove Him away and don’t ask for His help. We wind up exhausted, leaving a lot of broken glass and stained clothing in our wake. And only then do we look to Him to clean up the mess.

But He continues to choose us.

Why?

Beats me.

We know that His ways are above our ways, His thoughts higher than our thoughts (Isa. 55:8-9), but we still want Him to make sense.

But let’s face it.

His track record indicates that not making sense (to us) is the way He operates.

Think about it. He chose to redeem the world—wait for it—by becoming a baby.

A baby?

I have a fantastic imagination, and never in a zillion years would I have written the redemption story the way God did.

1. Become a baby.
2. Live a perfect human life.
3. Let the humans I created kill me.
4. Rise from the dead.

Really? That was the plan?

I'm thinking He could have come up with one that was a bit more straightforward and involved a LOT less pain and suffering on His part. But He didn't. He chose this way. And we'll need all of eternity to grasp the reasons why.

With that in mind, why on earth do I expect Him to write my part of His story in a logical, formulaic, predictable way?

Today, my story has several subplots that make no sense. To me.

If left up to me, I would write them differently - a lot more straightforward and definitely with a lot less pain involved.

But I’m thankful it’s not up to me.

Because God writes the best stories.

Isaiah 9:6 - For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. (ESV)

Read More