Have you ever started a project with zeal, even with Divine inspiration behind it, only to find that months (even years) later it has come to nothing?
That is the sad reality of my writing (or my not writing). Years ago, as I was walking through some very difficult times raising small children, I felt that the experiences and life lessons that had been given to me might provide help to others as I shared them in a book. After all, writing was in my blood--my grandmother was a poet, my father a master thesis writer and playwright, and I had been writing tidbits for as long as I could remember. Then, a few months ago, I got "the call." One of those phone calls that I thought the Lord had put in my path to reignite the fire to get a book done.
For the first two weeks (or so), I was charged up and everything seemed to be falling into place. I was finding good time almost every day to get writing done. Sources of inspiration seemed to be all around me. A writing conference was lined up, and I was looking forward to meeting a key editor that could get me where I needed to be.
Then, life happened. My grandfather's health deteriorated and he died a few weeks later. The kids started summer break, and I never had any time alone. My cousin died very unexpectedly and I needed to travel to Ohio. Extra hours were needed at work. My enthusiasm fizzled out.
So now what? I don't really know. The writer's conference is still out there, but my "in" seems to have disappeared. It's still summer break and this is the first time that I've gotten anything accomplished in quite a while. The lack of vision, coupled with discouragement, seems to have gotten the upper hand. But I know that defeat is not the answer.
Just this morning I was reading a daily devotional from Oswald Chambers. It said: "God gives us a vision, and then He takes us down to the valley to batter us into the shape of that vision. It is in the valley that so many of us give up and faint. Every God-given vision will become real if we will only have patience." He goes on to say, "The vision that God gives is not some unattainable castle in the sky, but a vision of what God wants you to be down here. Allow the Potter to put you on His wheel and whirl you around as He desires. Then as surely as God is God, and you are you, you will turn out as an exact likeness of the vision. But don’t lose heart in the process. If you have ever had a vision from God, you may try as you will to be satisfied on a lower level, but God will never allow it."
So correct me if I'm wrong, but here's what I can expect: vision, battering, possible fainting, patience (hopefully), whirling, God's end work.
Oh Lord, help me have your vision for my life! Let me not grow weary of being battered in the valleys of life. Give me courage and patience. Hold my head up through the dizziness and form me into your completed work. Amen.
The Lord has given me a desire to write, and I hope to honor Him with what I produce. I aim to be real and honest about how I handle some of life’s adventures in hopes that others can relate and be encouraged.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
From Death to Life
At 4:15 in the afternoon on Father’s Day, I arrived at my parent’s house expecting to celebrate my Daddy. I was met at the door by my sister who was crying. Unable to tell me what was wrong, she pointed me to my mother who informed me that my youngest cousin Abigail had died. Stunned, I listened to the account of the freak accident that took her life.
The “celebration” of Father’s Day was muted and surreal. I spent much of the evening crying. I called my sister-in-law to share the news and to ask for prayer for my family.
About an hour later, the phone rang. My sister-in-law was calling back to share a remarkable story. When I had called her, she was in the car with her husband and children. The kids asked many questions about what had happened, and the report of the tragic accident struck a nerve with my niece Abby. She kept saying “I want to see Abigail, I want to see Abigail.” The two had met months earlier at a family gathering. They both had soft brown, curly hair, and my cousin had explained to my niece that they shared the same name.
Now, my four-year-old niece was insistent that she see this young woman. I would like to close with the account of what transpired in the car that evening, as written in a condolence letter by my brother-in-law Bryan:
We explained that Abigail was in heaven with Jesus. Although Abby seemed pleased with this destination for Abigail, our Abby was intent on seeing your Abigail again. And since she kept hearing us say, “Because Abigail had Jesus in her heart, she went to heaven when she died,” that seemed to fuel a fire in Abby. She needed to be assured that she was going to go to heaven one day too.
After some discussion with my wife, we decided that it was a good time to share the gospel message with her. We went through the basics of why Jesus came and died on the cross, how He rose from the dead, and that we can go to heaven by accepting Him as Lord and Savior. Abby didn’t need much convincing as she knew she was a sinner, and that she loved Jesus and wanted Him to be in her heart. So no more than 30 minutes after the news of Abigail’s death, our little Abby gave her heart to Jesus, and had her name written in the Lamb’s Book of Life—thus answering our four-year prayer for our daughter.
I pray that this story will somehow bring comfort to your hurting soul. God does work all things for the good … even tragedy. Know that the death of your daughter and the second birth of ours will always be intertwined, with the end result being God’s glory. And one day our two daughters will meet, and surely talk of God’s glory and His beautiful ways.
Isaiah 55:8-9 (ESV)
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Being Unfriended
It came to my attention yesterday that a longtime friend of mine was no longer a "friend" on Facebook. Assuming the best, she may have canceled her original account and recreated a new one. However, I'm thinking that the more realistic explanation is that she doesn't want to hear any of my "Christianese" by way of FB postings.
It made me really sad, because she and I have so many years of memories together. We used to be very close and an important part of each other's lives. It is true that we hold two very different world views, but does that mean we can't be friends?
I know that there are some who say the biblical passage about not being "unequally yoked" would apply to friendships as well. However, I would argue, how are we to ever make a personal impact on individuals if we can't form the bonds of friendship with them?
I have tried so very hard to not be a stereotypical TV Christian who judges everyone and has a "holier than thou" attitude. I know I mess up, and at times my beliefs my cause a rift between myself and someone who has very strong contradictory opinions. But all in all, I hope that my "branding" is one of love and compassion.
Just today, I was expressing to a teenage boy that my desire is to speak the truth in love. I do believe there is an absolute truth. I do believe that there is a heaven and a hell. I do believe that Jesus is the one and only way. I guess that in and of itself is offensive enough to exclude me from the party. Loving or not, the message is too strong for some to tolerate.
It hurts to be rejected. But I guess Jesus knows exactly how that feels.
It made me really sad, because she and I have so many years of memories together. We used to be very close and an important part of each other's lives. It is true that we hold two very different world views, but does that mean we can't be friends?
I know that there are some who say the biblical passage about not being "unequally yoked" would apply to friendships as well. However, I would argue, how are we to ever make a personal impact on individuals if we can't form the bonds of friendship with them?
I have tried so very hard to not be a stereotypical TV Christian who judges everyone and has a "holier than thou" attitude. I know I mess up, and at times my beliefs my cause a rift between myself and someone who has very strong contradictory opinions. But all in all, I hope that my "branding" is one of love and compassion.
Just today, I was expressing to a teenage boy that my desire is to speak the truth in love. I do believe there is an absolute truth. I do believe that there is a heaven and a hell. I do believe that Jesus is the one and only way. I guess that in and of itself is offensive enough to exclude me from the party. Loving or not, the message is too strong for some to tolerate.
It hurts to be rejected. But I guess Jesus knows exactly how that feels.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Typecast as Jesus
Because of my job as a radio host, I'm often sent books and movies that the publishers/producers are hoping to have me talk about. Recently, I received a copy of the movie "The Encounter". Without giving too much of the plot away, it features a cast of characters who have a modern day encounter with Jesus.
The role of Jesus is played by Bruce Marchiano, who has played this part many times before. I got to thinking about what it might be like to be typecast in that role. Often times actors are cast in roles because they are strongly identified with a particular character. The audience comes to expect them to speak and act in familiar ways. While it may be comfortable for the viewers, it probably becomes a bit monotonous (and/or intimidating) for the actor.
But what would it be like to be known as the guy who plays the Son of God? On one hand, it could be viewed as a career killer. Jim Caviezel, known for playing Jesus in "Passion of the Christ", has repeatedly told audiences that he was shunned by Hollywood after playing the part. But, on the other hand, it undoubtedly opens up doors for relationships and conversations that could be life changing. I can imagine it would also put you under the spotlight, as the world watches to see if you bear any likeness to the character you portray.
Most of us will never be called to play the part of Jesus, but we each have the opportunity to "act" like Him as we live out our lives. I couldn't think of a better way to express how badly my heart wants to walk out my faith (though my will often wars against it) than to close with the lyrics from the Warren Barfield song "Mistaken":
I shouldn’t have to tell you who I am
Cause who I am should be speakin’ for itself
Cause if I am who I, I wanna be
Then who you see won’t even be me
Oh well the more and more I disappear
The more and more He becomes clear
Chorus:
Till everyone I talk to hears His voice.
And everything I touch feels the warmth of His hand.
Till everyone I meet sees Jesus in me
This is all I want to be, I want to be,
Mistaken for Jesus, Oh I want to be, mistaken
The role of Jesus is played by Bruce Marchiano, who has played this part many times before. I got to thinking about what it might be like to be typecast in that role. Often times actors are cast in roles because they are strongly identified with a particular character. The audience comes to expect them to speak and act in familiar ways. While it may be comfortable for the viewers, it probably becomes a bit monotonous (and/or intimidating) for the actor.
But what would it be like to be known as the guy who plays the Son of God? On one hand, it could be viewed as a career killer. Jim Caviezel, known for playing Jesus in "Passion of the Christ", has repeatedly told audiences that he was shunned by Hollywood after playing the part. But, on the other hand, it undoubtedly opens up doors for relationships and conversations that could be life changing. I can imagine it would also put you under the spotlight, as the world watches to see if you bear any likeness to the character you portray.
Most of us will never be called to play the part of Jesus, but we each have the opportunity to "act" like Him as we live out our lives. I couldn't think of a better way to express how badly my heart wants to walk out my faith (though my will often wars against it) than to close with the lyrics from the Warren Barfield song "Mistaken":
I shouldn’t have to tell you who I am
Cause who I am should be speakin’ for itself
Cause if I am who I, I wanna be
Then who you see won’t even be me
Oh well the more and more I disappear
The more and more He becomes clear
Chorus:
Till everyone I talk to hears His voice.
And everything I touch feels the warmth of His hand.
Till everyone I meet sees Jesus in me
This is all I want to be, I want to be,
Mistaken for Jesus, Oh I want to be, mistaken
Friday, June 10, 2011
Tree, Tire Swing, and Tears
My older daughter has been asking me for weeks to put up a tire swing. Finally yesterday, I got on-line to see what it would take. There were several websites that sold them for $100 or more. Not having that kind of extra cash, I suggested we head over to Lowes (with Internet DIY directions in hand) and get what we would need.
Long story short, it was suggested to me by an employee that I buy toeing line (the kind to toe a car). It would be strong enough and I wouldn't have to mess with the chain and hardware. So, $15 later, I had the line and a nice sized tire and was determined to get it hung.
It really didn't take long to "assemble". I looped the line over a branch, fastened the hooks, at voila--a tire swing.
Long story short, it was suggested to me by an employee that I buy toeing line (the kind to toe a car). It would be strong enough and I wouldn't have to mess with the chain and hardware. So, $15 later, I had the line and a nice sized tire and was determined to get it hung.
It really didn't take long to "assemble". I looped the line over a branch, fastened the hooks, at voila--a tire swing.
I proudly waited for my husband to congratulate me on my cleaver idea. The only problem is, he didn't. Asking how much the line was, he told me I could have just used the rope we already had for free. And besides, the loop hindered the effectiveness of the swing.
I was mad! Expecting praise, I was totally floored by the comment. My husband probably could have been a little more sensitive in his approach, but the real problem was my heart.
I'm very much geared with a personality that wants to tackle obstacles--but usually as quickly and cheaply as possible. When he had a better (and cheaper) way to do it, my pride was bruised.
It has taken me a night to sleep on it, but it is now clear that the correction he offered was meant to help, not to hurt me. My prayer today is that I will be quicker to hear the wisdom and council of others and let go of my pride.
After hanging the swing on a single line, it IS much better.
Poverty and shame will come to him who disdains correction, But he who regards a rebuke will be honored. Provers 13:18
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Anniversary in Review
This last weekend my honey and I were able to get "away" for the weekend and take advantage of a local B&B. It was a house built in 1912 and had tons of character and charm. We spent two days nurturing our marriage and reflecting on the 11 years that we have been together.
While the kids missed us (and by the end of the weekend, we were missing them too), it is so important to take the moments that we can to focus on our relationship as husband and wife.
Celebrating marriage is not a norm in America anymore, and in this case, I take great pride in being unusual.
While the kids missed us (and by the end of the weekend, we were missing them too), it is so important to take the moments that we can to focus on our relationship as husband and wife.
Celebrating marriage is not a norm in America anymore, and in this case, I take great pride in being unusual.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Thankful for neighbors
Four years ago, I was jolted awake by a noise that my mind couldn't place. It continued sounding and I jumped out of bed to investigate. Approaching the window on the front side of the house, I pulled back the curtains and saw a raging fire. The neighbor's RV was going up in flames and the tires were exploding from the heat. That night, many of us gathered on the street to watch the fire department extinguish what was to be the first of two large fires in our neighborhood in the coming months.
The second fire happened just two doors down from the original. That same sickening sound awoke me, and I knew instantly what it was. I tore open our bedroom window to find the house across the street engulfed in flames. Running outside, we saw many of the same neighbors springing to action.
Thankfully, there were no fatalities in either of these fires, though the second one left the home's renter badly burned. What proved to be a series of traumatic events for those involved also served to bring our neighborhood together as nothing else could.
We know that Charlie and his wife lost their daughter to breast cancer. We know that a young dad underwent surgery to have a brain tumor removed. We know when the nurse next door will be leaving to visit her mama. We know that there were too many suspicious cars parked in front of the home of a teenager who appeared to be dealing drugs. We've baked cookies, we've kept an eye out, and we've called police.
Earlier today my girls went to play with a neighborhood friend and made mini cakes. She's now at our home as her mom goes to work. It's a good feeling to know that we look out for each other and can be neighbors in the truest sense of the word.
Do you know your neighbors? I encourage you to take a few extra minutes and chat when you go out to get the mail. When you get invited to go to the Christmas block party, but you're hesitant because you don't know anyone, go anyway. Neighbors are important and you can be an equally important witness as you simply take the time to show you care.
The second fire happened just two doors down from the original. That same sickening sound awoke me, and I knew instantly what it was. I tore open our bedroom window to find the house across the street engulfed in flames. Running outside, we saw many of the same neighbors springing to action.
Thankfully, there were no fatalities in either of these fires, though the second one left the home's renter badly burned. What proved to be a series of traumatic events for those involved also served to bring our neighborhood together as nothing else could.
We know that Charlie and his wife lost their daughter to breast cancer. We know that a young dad underwent surgery to have a brain tumor removed. We know when the nurse next door will be leaving to visit her mama. We know that there were too many suspicious cars parked in front of the home of a teenager who appeared to be dealing drugs. We've baked cookies, we've kept an eye out, and we've called police.
Earlier today my girls went to play with a neighborhood friend and made mini cakes. She's now at our home as her mom goes to work. It's a good feeling to know that we look out for each other and can be neighbors in the truest sense of the word.
Do you know your neighbors? I encourage you to take a few extra minutes and chat when you go out to get the mail. When you get invited to go to the Christmas block party, but you're hesitant because you don't know anyone, go anyway. Neighbors are important and you can be an equally important witness as you simply take the time to show you care.
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