I Want More

There are a couple of things I really want.

I'm not talking about the way I really want a mocha, or a slice of pizza, or to weigh less. Although, let's face it, the mocha and pizza aren't helping the weight issue at all. Neither is my Oreo addiction. But I digress.

I'm talking about big wants. Life-changing wants. The kinds of things that would impact me and my family for years.

And I want them bad.

Sometimes I shy away from admitting I want things. Even when what I want is good and God-honoring, I still have the notion that the "wanting" is wrong.

But I don't believe the wanting is where I stumble.

God created us to have dreams and desires. They are not inherently evil. They are, however, frequently misappropriated.

I stumble when my dreams become demands or when what I want becomes what I must have to be happy.

While I haven't always been able to say this, at this time in my life I can honestly say that while I do want some big things, there is one thing I want more. So much more that it trumps all my other dreams and longings.

I want Him more.

I only want what God wants me to have. And I don't want anything enough to step out of God's will to have it.

Will I be disappointed if what I want doesn't happen? Yes.

Will I be disappointed in God if what I want doesn't happen? No.

I want Him more.

Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he will act. Psalm 37:4-5 (ESV)

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Directionally Challenged

I like detailed directions.

Extremely detailed.

If you ever need directions to my house, I don’t just say turn left on this street and right on that one. Oh no. I include important information such as “Approximately 8/10 of a mile after you turn left you’ll come to a curve that makes you feel like you should put your turn signal on. The curve is 1/10 of a mile from your next right turn.”

People love my directions.

Okay. Actually, they laugh hysterically when the read them, but the reality is, if I give you directions, you are not going to get lost. At least, not if you follow them.

This need for detailed direction is probably why I struggle with Psalm 119:105.

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.

I learned the verse as a child and my mental picture involved an enormous spotlight shining its powerful beam a good 100 yards down the path.

But that’s not what we’re talking about here. Oil lamps don’t give off that much light. We’re talking about just enough light to avoid stubbing your toe on a root or slamming into a boulder.

And this frustrates me.

After all, God is quite capable of giving detailed directions.

Have you seen the book of Leviticus? I mean honestly. Talk about details. (I like to think I get my detail issues from the Almighty—it’s nicer than admitting to being a bit OCD).

And talk about lighting a path. This is the God of the Shekinah glory cloud and the pillar of fire. God knows how to light up a path when He wants to.

And yet . . .

He seems to prefer to give me just enough information to take the next step.

No more. No less.

You can’t race along a path with that little bit of light. Each step must be measured. Each foot placement considered. You have to be on your guard at all times. And you have to have faith that the destination is worth the harrowing journey.

Of course, my faith is what’s at issue.

I have to trust that the One who lights my path, knows my path.

So I continue to step out, never knowing what’s next, but knowing He does.

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Plot & Structure

I'm guest blogging today over at The Write Conversation.

Come pay me a visit and read my thoughts on Plot & Structure by James Scott Bell (yes, the same one I dreamed left me a Facebook comment last week).

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Finished

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Several weeks ago, when everything seemed to be falling apart, I was sitting at my desk praying. And I felt strongly that I needed to read Psalm 119. I can’t say that kind of thing happens to me all the time. But it did this time.

Psalm 119, for those who may not be familiar with it, is very long.

I read but nothing “grabbed” me. I continued reading, feeling dutiful. Until verse 76 popped me between the eyes.

Psalm 119:76 – Let your steadfast love comfort me according to your promise to your servant. (ESV)

Now, if that verse didn’t give you chills, I can understand. It seems like a verse I would normally have read and just kept on going.

But when I read it on this particular afternoon, my mind immediately went to a verse I have quoted over and over since my writing life began.

Psalm 138:8 – The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O LORD, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of your hands. (ESV)

I sat at my desk stunned.

And comforted.

Nothing had changed. My circumstances remained chaotic. My plans lay in ruins. But my heart felt secure.

So, as the rest of the month disintegrated around me, I thought God had shown me that He had other plans. And I was okay with that.

But regardless of whether the manuscript was going to be submitted for the contest or not, the revision still had to be completed before I could do anything else. So I pressed on.

When I had the “opportunity” to spend the day in bed last Sunday (as in, the nurse said stay in bed all day), I wrote. All day.

And as of today, the re-write is done. By done, I mean, done for now. We all know nothing is ever truly done. But, the manuscript is finally in a place where I can submit it to the agents who requested it at Blue Ridge.

I sent my contest entry off an hour ago.

I’m under no delusions. I don’t think I’m going to win the contest. I don’t think I’ll even place. And that’s not put-on false hypocrisy. That’s a writer’s reality. I’ll probably need to write for quite a few more years, churn out several more books, attend quite a few more conferences and learn more than I ever imagined existed about the craft of writing, before I’ll finally produce a manuscript that is publishable.

But finishing in time to submit to Operation First Novel was important to me. And sometimes God, in his steadfast love, reminds us that He knows where we are. That He knows what is important to us. That He gives us our dreams. That He keeps His promises.

There is no logical explanation for the fact that I finished today, just a few hours before the deadline. If September had been “normal” I might have thought I had done this in my own power.

As it is, there is only one thing I can say.

Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen. (Eph. 3:20-21 KJV)

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Priorities

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My blog has been fairly serious over the past few weeks.

My life has, too.

But I can’t be serious all the time and as my month long revision process winds down, I’ve been thinking of all the things I’ve given up in order to focus so totally on my manuscript.

Here are a few, in no particular order.


Watching TV. I don’t watch a lot of shows, but most of the ones I do watch have been on hiatus for the summer. And all had season premieres in the past week. I did not watch. I sat downstairs and typed away while my husband watched all of them, laughing so hard I could hear him through two closed doors.

(Exception – NCIS. I’m a girl with priorities. Plus, I write romantic suspense. I consider it “research” and watch guilt-free.)

Doing laundry. Not really much of a sacrifice. I’ll pay for it later, but for now . . .

Reading. This one is a sacrifice. I haven’t read any fiction in a month. That might be a record for me. The reason is simple self-preservation. As soon as I pick up Steven James’ The Bishop, I’m toast. It will be a planned “mommy outage” – nothing will get done. Possibly even less than is getting done now. When this revision is over, I’m going to curl up with that book and read it, probably within 48-hours. I’ll then spend the next several weeks jumping at the slightest sound in the middle of the night. But it will be worth it.

Knitting. I love to knit. It’s relaxing. Except for when you drop a stitch and have to spend several hours trying to salvage the week’s worth of work you’ve done. I realize it doesn’t sound all that appealing, but it is. At this point, I’d be happy to knit a dishcloth. But I won’t. I won’t. Not until I’m done.

Eating. Um. No. Not really. Which is a shame.

Tweeting. I haven’t gotten into Twitter yet, but I’ve been convinced I need to give it a go. But not yet.

Sleeping. In the past week, I’ve dreamed that James Scott Bell left a message on my Facebook wall telling me I hadn’t put enough tension in my plot. (No. We’ve never met.) Two nights later, as I struggled to come up with the perfect “climactic” scene, I dreamed one. It was horrible. And off-beat. And as my characters raced away from the scene of the carnage, there was none other than Steven James himself (who I have met), herding two small goats away from the flames. Side note: there are NO goats in my story.

When this is over, I’m thinking about sending my kids to my parents for the weekend. (They don't know this . . . well, I guess they do now).

I’ll be sleeping late, tweeting in my pajamas, napping, reading The Bishop, watching all the shows stored on my DVR and knitting a dishcloth. Or maybe a baby sweater.

The laundry can wait.

I’m a girl with priorities.

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Lesson Lived

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Several months ago, I wrote a piece about the importance of being prepared to put into practice whatever you blog about. Probably within twenty-four hours of your post.

It happened again.

I think I might be afraid of my own blog.

If you didn't read last Friday's post, you'll need to or this won't make much sense. Here's the condensed version: September hasn't gone according to my plan so I'm giving up on the plan and taking life a day a time and leaning on God's perfect plan for my life.

Um, yeah.

I woke up at 5AM on Saturday morning, spent the next 4 hours in the ER and the next 3 days on the couch.

Several people who had read the blog on Friday commented on the irony. Believe me. As I was sitting in the ER, it occurred to me that maybe I should have waited one more day before telling the world (OK, the 30 or so people who read my blog) that I was confident that God's storyline for my life was better than anything I could come up with.

'Cause let me tell you, at 5AM on Saturday morning, I wasn't buying it.

It hasn't come up on Out of the Boat before now, but I am 16-weeks pregnant.

And when I woke up Saturday morning, I didn't think I was pregnant anymore.

There's nothing quite like that kind of terror to make you question whether or not God's storyline is all that great. I can't tell you what this post would be like, or how long it would have been before I managed to post anything, if Baby #3 wasn't alive, kicking, growing and causing me tremendous heartburn and occasional nausea.

Needless to say, the events of the weekend have stopped me in my tracks.

I've been told to take it easy. No heavy lifting, no housework, nothing but the bare minimum - for the rest of the week.

Since I've been laying on the couch instead of hunched over my computer, I've had a lot of time on my hands to think about things.

I wouldn't say I've learned my lesson, but goodness knows I've lived it.

When the waves got rough this weekend, I can't say I stayed on top of the water.

But I can say that I was never alone and that when the waves threatened to drag me under, He was there.

So, once again, I'm here to tell you that I have no plan. I'm taking it a day at a time. I'm trying not to worry about the little life growing inside me. I'm not going to worry about contests I won't be able to enter, or books that may take an extra few months to complete.

I'm trying not to fight the change in my plans.

Trying to look at the bright side.

And trying to live out what I believe.

Jeremiah 29:11-13 - For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil,to give you a future and a hope.Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.(ESV)

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The Best Laid Plans

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Proverbs 19:21 - Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the LORD that will stand. (ESV)

In Mid-August, as the school year got under way and life started to take on something that bore a resemblance to a routine, my little brain went to work.

In order to submit my novel to the Operation First Novel contest sponsored by the Christian Writers Guild, I needed to devote all my free time, and some of my already committed time, to my manuscript.

I’m one of those Type-A, overachiever types and there’s nothing quite like setting a goal to help me rise to the challenge.

But I’m also a wife and mother. I have responsibilities other than writing. And devoting a significant portion of time to my manuscript wasn’t something to undertake without serious consideration. Because, again, as the overachieving type, once I committed, I planned to see it through.

No matter what.

So, I prayed. When I felt like it was the right thing to do, I sent out an email to a handful of friends and family, asking them to pray.

And I went to work.

The next day (I am NOT making this up) my mother-in-law broke her leg. And came to live on my couch for the next two weeks.

This was not part of my plan. Obviously, this was not part of her plan either.

I love my mother-in-law. She’s a trooper. She didn’t complain. She was less whiny than some men I know (who will remain nameless) when they have a sinus infection. And, at one point, she was wheeling around in her wheelchair as she mopped my floors (can't make that up either). She did her very best to be as helpful as possible, because, after all, she was in on the plan.

(She might not have been aware of the part of "my plan" that had included her taking my son for some quality "grandma & me" time every so often during the month of September. Which, as she can't put any weight on her leg for at least a few more weeks, obviously won't be happening.)

And this wasn’t the only thing that went “wrong”. I won’t bore you with the details but, trust me when I say several things went "wrong" within a fairly short period of time.

I hit a wall.

Why was this happening? I had prayed about this. Other people were praying. This was the right thing to do.

My sweet husband tried to settle me down with the astute observation that I could just give up on my plan. (He’s a bit of a master at reverse psychology). I let him know that despite the fact that I was, at that moment, reduced to a sobbing puddle of misery, I had no intention of bailing on the plan.

Remember, overachiever here.

I sent an email to a friend and told her that God would either have to stop the sun—hey, He’s done it before—or give me supernatural strength because there was NO WAY I would be able to finish this revision in time unless He did it.

You can already see where I’m going with this, can’t you.

The next Sunday in church, one of our pastors made the comment that sometimes God lets us run out of gas so when we get where we’re going, we have no choice but to give Him the glory.

Now, you might be expecting me to tell you I finished the revision in record time—but I’m not done. I still have 102 pages to revise/edit/rewrite.

But, here’s what God’s been teaching me.

My plan for September was to finish the revision and submit the manuscript to the contest.

God’s plan for September was for me to lean on Him. All day. Every day.

Sadly, I’m a slow learner.

My mother-in-law went home on Saturday.

Sometime on Sunday, I might have started thinking about “my plan” again. Might have even written down a little schedule that would prove that it’s possible for me to finish in time.

The school called at 10:30 on Monday morning. Once again, my plan went down the drain as I rushed to the school, then the pediatrician and then brought both my munchkins home for the day.

Very little writing goes on when both the munchkins are at home.

We’ve been in the pediatrician’s office (or at his house – it’s very handy when your pediatrician is also a friend and you have his cell number) three out of five days this week.

I’m giving up on my plan.

I know. I should have done this three weeks ago.

The new plan?

I don’t have one.

I’m taking it a day at a time. I’m staying up late to write after the house is quiet. I’m being faithful to write when I have time during the day.

Mostly, I’m trying to remember that God’s storyline is always better than anything I can come up with.

And that no matter what I plan, His purposes will stand.

Psalm 138:8 – The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O LORD, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of your hands. (ESV)

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