A Bell Ringer's Epiphany

Today's guest blogger is Linda Wood Rondeau. I asked her to help us usher in the Christmas season because I just read her wonderful feel-good novel, A Christmas Prayer, which has just been released. She is sharing her story "The Bell Ringer's Epiphany" with us. Enjoy! And afterward, scroll down and read more about Linda and her new books.

I wondered why I had volunteered. I had too many things to do. And I hate the cold. It gets into my bones until nothing can make me feel warm again. 

I had offered to be a bell ringer for the Salvation Army’s Christmas drive. I bundled up and trekked to my station at the local grocery store. I donned the blue apron and picked up the emblem of my assignment, a small golden bell.

Then one by one the people came up to the little red bucket dropping in the change or dollars. Sometimes people felt like talking. Other times, they nodded and left. Still others dropped their gift and scurried off to complete the sundry other tasks the season required of them.

“I brought you here to teach you something,” the Spirit said to my heart.

Not to be so quick to volunteer?

 “No. I want you to study these people. Examine the way they give.”

And, I did. To my amazement, I learned the reasons for giving are as varied as the people who donate. Then I began to see similarities in people’s motivation. And, I wondered where my heart would fit among theirs. 

The first lady gave from her sorrow. This was her first Christmas without her mother. Her father had passed away only a year before. Eyes brimming with tears, she pushed twenty dollars into the bucket. “My mother was a bell ringer,” she said. “Thank you for doing this.” Then she rushed off, uncomfortable with her emotions.  

The Spirit spoke again: He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering (Isaiah 52:3).

The next person gave from his abundance. His leather jacket and bulging wallet told all. He plopped a den-dollar bill into the bucket, pleased with his generosity. He straightened his shoulders with pride in his offering and left.

The Spirit spoke again: From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded: and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked (Luke 12:48).

An elderly woman approached. Her threadbare coat and raveled scarf told of her station in life. Her cart also bore testament to her poverty. She stopped before the red canister, pulled out a thin and worn wallet from her purse, and dropped in her last two coins. “Maybe this will bring me good fortune,” she said. She gave from her need, as if investing into generosity would bring better days. 

The Spirit spoke yet again: And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:19).

Another elderly woman stopped by the kettle. Her head drooped from her heavy burden. She shrugged her shoulders then reached into her purse for an assortment of change. “I feel guilty if I pass by one of these drums and give nothing.” She trotted off, head slightly higher. Her giving well was a fountain of guilt.

The Spirit spoke anew: For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me (Psalm 51:3).

Lastly, a young man eagerly approached the drum, much akin to Tiger’s Happy Bounce, and tossed his coins with a whistle. “I love this!” he said as he sailed out the door. “God’s been good to me. This is one way I can say, ‘Thank you.’” The young man gave from a spirit of gratitude.

The Spirit spoke once more than fell silent: Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver (1 Corinthians 9:7).

Then I knew what the Spirit wanted me to learn. Christmas is a time for giving. I analyzed my own motivations. Do I give begrudgingly because it’s expected? Do I donate from a feeling of loss? Do I thrive on the hope one day my giving will be multiplied? Do I fear what will happen if I do not give? I hope that from this day on my giving will be from a grateful heart to a Savior who came as the atonement for my sins.

Winner of the 2012 Selah Award for best first novel The Other Side of Darkness/Harbourlight,  LINDA WOOD RONDEAU writes stories of God’s mercies. Walk with her unforgettable characters as they journey paths not unlike our own. After a long career in human services, Linda now resides in Jacksonville, Florida. 

Linda’s best-selling Adirondack Romance, It Really IS a Wonderful Life, is published by Lighthouse of the Carolinas and is available wherever books are sold.  Her next releases were her devotional book, I Prayed for Patience God Gave Me Children and Days of Vines and Roses. 

Joy Comes to Dinsmore Street and A Christmas Prayer have been released in time for the Christmas Season. Songs in the Valley/ Helping Hands Press will be released in late 2013 or early 2014.  

Readers may visit her web site at www.lindarondeau.com or email her at lindarondeau@gmail.com  or find her on Facebook, Twitter, PInterest, LinkedIn, Google Plus and Goodreads.  

That Blasted Proverbs 31 Woman!

You’ve heard of the “Proverbs 31 woman,” right?

I’m sure you’ve at least heard the line, “Her children arise and call her blessed.” She’s sort of the Old Testament ideal of the perfect wife. Proverbs 31 (starting in verse 10) describes this great lady in detail. Many fine Christian women set great store by her and want to be like her—which is wonderful.

For many years, I positively despised her. If she had been real, I would have liked to get my hands on her, and not to give her a hug.

My bad attitude started in the early days of my marriage, which weren’t exactly ideal. Let’s just say we had a lot of adjusting to do. As a part of our adjustment, we went to a marriage conference. The leader asked us to write down some concrete things we would like our spouse to be or do—I can’t remember exactly how he worded the assignment. I’ve been married a LONG time. But I do remember that my dear hubby wrote down one line. “All I want is for you to be the Proverbs 31 woman.”

That’s all??!!

I wanted to snap back at him that all I wanted was for him to behave exactly like Jesus. But I bit that one back. The Proverbs 31 woman would never be so snarky.

In case you haven’t read Proverbs 31 lately, let me give you just a synopsis of this woman that I was supposed to be like. She gets up not just early, but while it’s still night—STILL NIGHT!—to start working. Her house is in perfect order. She spins and sews and makes beautiful coverings for the beds. She’s great at business—buys and sells fields for profit and sells things she makes—so she can take care of her family and give to the poor. Her family isn’t afraid of hard times, because she takes care of them. And of course, her children arise and call her blessed, and her husband praises her to everyone he meets.

For about two years after that, I couldn’t escape hearing about that dratted woman. The preacher seemed to preach about her every other week. I would turn on the car radio and the Christian family show would be talking about her, urging women to be like her. Daily devotionals, Sunday School lessons, conversations with other women at church…you get the idea.

For a woman who felt like a failure at this whole marriage and family business, I have to tell you, those messages could be pretty depressing. Not only did my children not call me blessed—I was facing infertility and couldn’t even manage to have children. And my husband was not exactly praising me in the streets.

Years went by. I stopped hearing so much about that blasted woman, for some reason, and stopped worrying about living up to her. Life became pretty full and hectic, anyway. We moved back to my hometown and I was so stressed and unhappy with my new job that I decided to get my master’s degree and become a librarian. My parents became elderly and my dad developed dementia and I spent a lot of time taking care of them. I taught an extra class at the college to get money to help with that, too. For my sanity, I took up quilting and beading and knitting, and even tried selling a bit of it. 

Through every bit of this, my hubby was supportive and sweet, a real shoulder to lean on. So I became sweeter, kinder, more respectful to him.

And one day, a few weeks ago, he said something that nearly made me fall over. He reminded me of the time he wrote down that he wanted me to be the Proverbs 31 woman, and then he said, “That’s what you are.”

For a moment, I thought he was delusional. But he had brought it up in the context of me caring for my parents, for my family. I got to thinking about that dratted woman again, and wondered if I had misjudged her. I thought about her making coverings for the bed and beautiful clothing for her family. So she had the same urges to quilt and knit and sew that I do! And that woman loved her family and would do anything to take care of them, which is always my first priority after serving God. We’re both career women mainly to be able to help our families, plus friends and acquaintances who might be having a hard time.

My attempts at selling (books or crafts) haven’t been as successful as hers, at least not yet. And this getting up while it’s still dark thing—well, we may just have to let that one go. I’ll never be as perfect as her. But my heart longs for the same things, and I’m striving toward the same goals.

Fortunately for me, my hubby seems to think that’s enough.

Godwinks and Giving Up

As I mentioned in the MLIW post, I’m not always up to date on the latest phrases or abbreviations.  While we were on vacation, my sister introduced me to the term “Godwink.” Turns out, I knew about Godwinks in my life, but I wasn’t familiar with the term.If you aren’t, either, here’s an example of one.

I was recently wandering through an antique mall/flea market with a friend of mine, and while she walked, she told me about a situation that sort of disturbed me. I could feel myself getting stressed and anxious, but it was one of those things that I could do absolutely nothing about. So I took a deep breath and prayed for God to take care of it and help me to let it go. In the prayer, I mentioned the verse that says a sparrow never falls outside of God’s will. He’s sovereign and watching over even tiny birds’ lives, I told myself. Suddenly that song, “His eye is on the sparrow” was running through my head.

And now for the Godwink.

At that precise moment, we moved to a new booth in the market, and the display table in front was covered with…sparrows! It was a line of products—figurines, paper products, keychains—featuring sparrows.

The term “Godwink” is credited to SQuire Rushnell. Here’s what he says on his webpage:

A godwink is what some people would call a coincidence, an answered prayer, or simply an experience where you'd say, "Wow, what are the odds of that!"…Think about when you were a kid and someone you loved gave you a little wink across the dining room table...That's what a godwink is too: a message of reassurance from above, directly to you, out of six billion people on the planet, saying "Hey kid...I'm thinking of you! Keep the faith! You're never alone."

I don’t know if the next instance really counts. It’s more common than the other example, a little more vague. All I know is that I’ve been really tired for weeks. Even after vacation—maybe even because of vacation!—I’ve felt a little weary and overwhelmed by the busyness of life. I can’t seem to find time to work on things that are important to me, and then the weariness makes me wonder why I even think of adding to an already overloaded schedule. Why do I continually fret over writing or other things that I think are meaningful, but are probably worthless to other people, or to God?

So while in this state, I passed a wayside pulpit, and instead of one of their cute puns, the newly-changed sign just said, “Never Give Up. Galatians 6:9.”

So of course I had to look up Galatians 6:9. Here’s the NIV version: “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

It didn’t make me feel less tired or more energetic, but the verse did help me keep plugging away for a few more days.

So how about you? Do you believe in “Godwinks”? Have you had one lately?

A Never-Ending Vacation at the Beach

My mom and dad (who passed away in March). They were married 64 years.

Have you ever tried to convince someone to try something that you know is wonderful, you know they’ll love it, but you just can’t get them interested?

For example, I’m still convinced that my husband would love the TV show Lost. He would adore puzzling out all its mysteries and symbolism. But his opinion is that it’s just another stereotypical TV show and he’s not interested. If you’ve ever watched Lost at all, you’ll know how misguided that attitude is. I mean, you can think that Lost is too weird, too confusing, too out-there…but just another stereotypical TV show?! I just shake my head, amazed.

I often think God is shaking his head at most of us—at least most of us in contemporary Western culture—and our blasé attitudes about Heaven. Do you ever confess to yourself that Heaven sounds just a little, well…boring?

I’ve been thinking and reading about Heaven a lot lately. Maybe it’s my age, but it seems that more and more of my treasures are in Heaven, so it disturbs me when I try to think about it and can’t picture anything much, maybe clouds and vague harp music in the background. It’s hard to make Heaven seem exciting and real.

I love what C.S. Lewis said along those lines: “If we consider the unblushing promises of reward … promised in the Gospels, it would seem that our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at sea. We are far too easily pleased.” (from The Weight of Glory)

This week, I’m actually preparing for a “holiday at the sea.” (That sounds so much more elegant than what I would usually say—a vacation at the beach.) I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward to it. The beauty. The rest from everyday worries and stresses. Getting away from it all.

It struck me that I should be in a constant state of anticipation for the vacation that will never end. For the seashore beyond all seashores, beyond my imagination of how splendid and beautiful it will be.

Which, of course, is a great deal of the problem. We can’t imagine the unimagineable. But we can do things that help. Read the Biblical passages that describe Heaven. Dwell on Heaven instead of our stresses. For me, it even helps to watch fantasy movies that stretch my imagination and help me picture things I never could have invented by myself.

I want to live in a state of anticipation all the time, not just when I have an earthly vacation coming up. As Lewis indicated, sometimes our lives in this prosperous society can seem pretty awesome. But that feeling doesn’t last, does it? The vacation ends. The car breaks down. Worst of all, friends and family members go on to Heaven ahead of us. When that happens, I’d rather lift my eyes and gaze out onto the sea than keep my head down, wallowing in the mud.

If you feel the same way, here are a few books that are helping me:

• ·         50 Days of Heaven by Randy Alcorn
• ·         Heaven: Your Real Home by Joni Eareckson Tada
• ·         Heaven is for Real by Todd Burpo
• ·         The Slumber of Christianity by Ted Dekker

My New Cat Philosopher

I’ve written frequently about my various Himalayan cats, and the life lessons I’ve learned from them. (Just check out the “cats” tag for previous articles, if you’re interested.) While I was on my blogging break, my last Himalayan baby, Wendy, died of cancer.

I was a little afraid she might be my last pet for a long time. My poor hubby isn’t really into pets, but two cats came into our marriage and lived a LONG time, and then we ended up fostering Wendy. But fortunately, I’m married to a wonderful, unselfish man!

So about a week later, I ended up with Minerva Pearl (a.k.a. Mini, or Mini Pearl).

My mom has always had a colony of feral cats on her land, and when Wendy died, there was a litter of wild kittens out behind her house. They were probably ten or eleven weeks old. One evening I went out to my mother’s after work, and Dave was already there. He told me to go look on the back porch, and when I did, I found a cat carrier with a very scared tabby kitten inside. He had caught one of the ferals for me!

Like her predecessors, Mini is constantly providing me with spiritual lessons. For example—how did I end up with her instead of one of the other kittens? Because she was the one Dave managed to catch with a fishing net! None of them wanted to be caught. They all thought we humans were evil, just intent on hurting them or ruining their lives.

But now I compare her life to that of her litter mates—especially when I leave my mom’s house on a frigid winter night and know they’ll be sleeping outside, while Mini will most likely be snuggled in bed with me. She has constant attention, safety from predators, the best food and medicine, people to love her and play with her. Not to mention her own personal doorman who lets her out on the screen porch and into the house, back and forth, about a million times a day.

And yet, she fought it for all she was worth. Which, of course, makes me think about my total misunderstanding, so many times, of what God is trying to do in my life. I wonder how many times I’ve mistrusted Him, or thought my way was better—when I might have missed out on something wonderful because I was too afraid to go through that scary moment when He put his hand on me.

Mini isn’t quite two years old yet, so I’m sure she has a lot more to teach me. I’ll keep you posted!

The Jar of Oil and the Bottle of Medicine

Do you remember the story in I Kings, about the widow who took in the prophet Elijah and gave him food and shelter--even though she didn't have enough food for herself and her son at the time? She only had a small amount of flour and some oil in a jar, barely enough for one meal. But after agreeing to share with Elijah, something amazing happened. The flour and the oil never ran out as long as he was there with her.

I know some folks are tempted to discount stories like this as mere fairy-tales. But I've heard several accounts of similar events from contemporary times. The one that comes to mind is from Corrie ten Boom's book, The Hiding Place. When she and her sister were in a Nazi concentration camp, someone managed to sneak in a small bottle of medicine. The bottle was made of dark glass and they couldn't see into it, but they figured there were only a few doses inside. But the medicine lasted and kept pouring out as long as they needed it, dosing prisoner after prisoner.

Some years ago, I made a tiny movement of faith, scaling back from a full-time to a part-time job so I would have more time to write. I was okay financially partly because my car was paid for. But it was getting old, and if I had to replace it or make major repairs, things were going to get complicated. I used to drive around in that car praying, "Lord, please make this car hold out just like the jar of oil and the bottle of medicine." And he did just that.

I'm a little scared about the economy and finances right now. Who isn't? We're facing major budget cuts where I work. Once again, I'm doing okay for now, if my car (which has over 130,000 miles on it) holds out. So a couple of nights ago, when driving home from work, I pulled out my old prayer--that God would make my car hold out like the bottle of oil and the medicine bottle.

You know God has a sense of humor, right? When I got home and opened my chronological Bible for that night's reading, guess what was there in front of me? The story of the widow, and Elijah, and the jar of oil and the handful of flour! I could just feel God smiling down at me.

I noticed something else when reading the account this time. When Elijah approaches the widow and asks for her help, she tells him that she only has enough food for one last meal for herself and her son, and she doesn't know what she will do after that. Elijah tells her not to be afraid (I wonder if she laughed at that one!) and then says something really nervy. He asks her to bake him a loaf of bread first, before she makes a meal for herself and her son.

What an incredible step of faith it must have been for this widow to do as Elijah asked--to follow God's prompting and provide for his prophet before herself or her son. And of course, it all worked out. The oil kept flowing. By letting go of that death grip she had on her meager possessions, she gained security and plenty for her family.

I just pray for that ability to follow God's leading instead of my fears. To believe in his provision for food, for cars--and for my dreams.

Unless the Lord Writes the Book

Awhile back, I reached the Psalms of David in my Chronological Bible reading and mentioned how much I loved them.

I'm now reading about his son Solomon's life, and the editors inserted a couple of Psalms written by him. Here's the beginning of what I read from Psalm 127 (New Living Translation):

"Unless the Lord builds a house, the work of the builders is useless. . .It is useless for you to work so hard from early morning until late at night, anxiously working for food to eat; for God gives rest to his loved ones."

What comforting verses, as I struggle to find time to write. As I struggle wondering whether I'm writing the right thing. Whether it will sell. Here's my take on those verses. "Unless the Lord writes the book, the writing is useless."

I don't have to fret. If God is building the house, or writing the book, the labor will get done. And it won't be useless; it will succeed. And I don't even have to work until I drop to prove myself to him. He'll give me rest.

I thought it was a little odd that the next verses abruptly switched to the subject of children. "Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him." (v. 3) Since I wasn't able to have children, verses like this sometimes make me feel bad. But for me, being a writer, my characters feel like my children. Somewhere I once heard them called "children of the mind."

If God will bless them and grow them, that will be a great reward for me!

Words that Last

I wish I could write psalms. The book of Psalms is one of my favorite parts of the Bible, and often when I sit down for my quiet time with God, I wish I could put my feelings into such beautiful lines. So far it hasn't happened, though. Probably because I'm so terrible with any kind of poetry.

One thing I love about the Chronological Bible I'm reading this year is that, as I'm reading about the life of David, if there's a psalm he seems to have written at that time of his life, the editors include it at the appropriate point in the narrative. I've always loved the story of David, but reading his prayers, his emotions as he cries out to God in the middle of the events of his life makes me feel so close to him. Sometimes I wish I could tell him--and the other psalmists--how often I have turned to their words to express my own feelings. To calm my fears. To remind myself why I should trust the Lord.

Last night, one of David's psalms had these lines: "O Lord, what are mortals that you should notice us, mere humans that you should care for us? For we are like a breath of air; our days are like a passing shadow." (Psalm 144:3-4, NLT)

It's true that David is long gone--gone like the vapor or shadows he named. And yet, there I sat, reading his words, breathing them in, feeling the truth of them fresh and new for myself. I was reminded that, though we mortals don't last very long, our words do. Words for good and words for evil.

It's both an inspiration and a caution for those of us who write. How I hope to be able to pen words that will last, but only if they're true and good. Only if someday, they can bring someone else a ray of encouragement and faith on a dark day.

"Go Slowly So You Do It Right"

In his sermon a couple of weeks ago, my pastor mentioned that this month marks the 60th anniversary of the Crazy Horse Memorial in South Dakota. Actually, that's not phrased exactly right. It's been sixty years since sculptor Korczak Ziolkowski started on the project, a mountain carving that will dwarf the one at Mt. Rushmore.



But the carving is nowhere near finished. In fact, a site called roadsidephotos.com says, "Ziolkowski died in 1982; with luck, his great-great-grandchildren will live long enough to dedicate the finished sculpture." And yet, when Ziolkowski was dying, he told his wife, "You must work on the mountain -- but go slowly so you do it right."



What an amazing attitude, especially today, in our generation--because the dedication to this cause didn't end with Ziolkowski himself. It continues with his family. Seven of his ten children have remained in the area, working for the project and the Foundation. At eighty-two, his wife soldiers on. The vision is huge. Not only will the carving, if and when it is finished, be the largest in the world, but the site will include the American Indian University and Medical Training Center.



My pastor pointed out that God's attitude toward us is like Ziolkowski's with his carving. We humans usually get impatient. We get discouraged and abandon our projects. We want to complete things quickly and move on. We want to rush to the victory and get our accolades.



But God works with us for a lifetime. Paul tells us he's confident that "he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion." (Phil. 1:6, NIV)

I'm grateful for these two reminders that it's okay if my dreams take awhile. That it's all right if I "go slowly so I do it right." That sometimes a dream is worth at least a lifetime.

A Long and Winding Road

Yesterday I reran a blog from last spring, when I was starting a new manuscript and dealing not only with fear of failure but also fear of success. I mentioned that the thoughts were pertinent to me again now, because I'm once again about to start a new project.

Actually I'm just sort of switching gears this time. I've been struggling, trying to turn out a draft of a novel I've attacked over and over throughout the years. It's my creepy gothic novel I've mentioned before, and it's not exactly my agent's cup of tea. I told her I would work on it until June, get it out of my system, and then work on the project she's excited about.

I have the usual trepidation when starting a new project, including that fear of both failure and success that I talked about yesterday. As I get older, though, I'm starting to have a new worry--fear of wasted time.

I have not exactly made a straight run toward my goals in life. Hence the theme of this blog. I started thinking about one of my favorite Bible passages (Proverbs 3:5-6), and the difference in two of its translations. Here's the way I learned it first, in the King James: "Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths."

Later, I read the verses in the New International Version, which I usually love. But I didn't care much for this translation: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight."

Do you see the difference? In the King James, God promises that he'll direct us. To me, that means he'll show us which path to take. In the NIV, he promises to make our paths straight. When I was younger, that didn't seem as encouraging--as though I'd have to figure out the path myself, but he'd straighten it out somehow.

Then I spent a few more years on the long, winding road that is my life. (Sorry if that Beatles song is going to be stuck in your head now.) I made so many false starts. I seemed to wander around without direction. I took an expensive class to become a legal secretary, and all it accomplished was showing me that I don't want to work in the legal profession. I started a graduate degree at USC in Los Angeles so I could become a screenwriter and work in film. I quit after one semester, because I discovered that I didn't want to live in Los Angeles and I had absolutely no talent for writing screenplays.

My writing journey has been just as circuitous. I've tried different genres. I wrote a manuscript for the secular market, only to be told it was too religious. So I reworked it for the Christian market and was told it's too literary. I've actually found myself thinking--should I rewrite it as a literary novel? I'd like to tell you I only went through this kind of confusion with one manuscript, but unfortunately, that's not the case.

You know how Psalm 23 starts off, "The Lord is my Shepherd?" Boy, do I understand that word picture! I often picture myself as a little lost lamb, wandering about, and God has to gently guide me back onto the path. The straight path. The one that leads me toward those achievements, those good works that he planned for me before the beginning of the world.

I'm trying a completely new genre on this current project for my agent. So I can't help but wonder--is this more wasted time? Another false start down the wrong turn in the maze? But I also have to remind myself that God used every one of those experiences to bring me where I am today, and that's a very good place.

So now I love that NIV translation that tells me God will make my paths straight. I may not know what I'm doing, I may take the scenic route, get lost and refuse to ask for directions, but God knows exactly where I need to go! I know from experience he'll get me there yet.

Fear of Blessing--Again!

I'm reading through the Chronological Bible this year. (I use the term "this year" loosely. At the rate I'm going, I figure this one-year Bible is going to take me about 17 months.) I've been reporting to you when I come across things that strike me as particularly relevant to our favorite topics: waiting, persevering, achieving your dream. Last week I read through a passage that I blogged about last spring. I was amazed that it was relevant when I came across it last May--and just as relevant right now. So, just in case some of you need to hear it again, I'm repeating this blog about David and the Ark of the Covenant.

A couple of weeks ago, my daily Bible reading brought me to some passages in 2 Samuel. In chapter 5, David is having a great time. Here are the NIV headings for the passages: "David Becomes King over Israel," "David Conquers Jerusalem," and "David Defeats the Philistines." He's on a roll, so he decides to take the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem.

During the trip, the oxen carrying the Ark stumble. One of David's men, Uzzah, takes hold of the Ark to steady it, which seems a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Unfortunately, God had given strict instructions as to who could touch the Ark, and how it should be treated. Uzzah was struck dead for his irreverence--and David was struck with fear. "How can the Ark of the Lord ever come to me?" (2 Sam. 6:9 NIV).

So David left the Ark right there where it was, with someone named Obed-Edom. Then he had to watch as God poured out his blessings on Obed-Edom and his entire household and know that, because of his fear, he was missing all that.

I'm in the process of starting yet another new novel, and I'm finding it really difficult. Some of that excitement I usually have at starting a new project just isn't there. Sometimes I ask myself, Have I done this once too often? Where's my passion? What am I afraid of?

I know I'm afraid of the rejection, of hitting the usual dead end. But sometimes I read blog posts and emails from published writers and think--what if I did succeed? Would I want to have a contract that required me to produce three books over the next year or two, instead of being able to take my time? And if I write books for the Christian market, what if I say the wrong thing? What if I misrepresent God, if my intentions are just as good as poor old Uzzah's--but I turn out to be just as irreverent and mistaken? Sure I'm afraid people will never read my work, but sometimes I'm even more afraid they will.

Even starting this blog was very scary for me. (See previous paragraph. Same principle.) It's very scary to reach out to people and make yourself vulnerable like that. But I finally decided, I don't want someone else to get my blessing! I'm just praying God will give me courage, and show me how to handle his Ark the right way.

God of Infertility

As I've mentioned before, I'm reading through the Chronological Bible this year. In the early portion of Genesis, something struck me in a new way. Have you ever noticed just how many of the women in the first generations of God's chosen people had to deal with infertility?

First, God tells Abraham that he's going to be the father of a great nation, that the number of his descendants will be like the grains of sand on the beach. Then Abraham and Sarah proceed to wait. In fact, they grow old without having produced a single child.

Eventually, of course, Sarah gives birth to Isaac. When Isaac becomes an adult, one of Abraham's servants returns to their homeland to find him a wife. The servant prays for a specific sign so he'll be sure to choose the woman that God has picked out for Isaac. God sends the sign. Apparently, he also sends Isaac another infertile woman. Genesis 25:21 says, "Isaac pleaded with the Lord to give Rebekah a child because she was childless." (New Living Translation) God answered the prayer and Rebekah had twins, Jacob and Esau.

Jacob married two sisters, Leah and Rachel. Guess what? Rachel struggled with infertility. This passage is from Genesis 30: "When Rachel saw that she wasn't having any children, she became jealous of her sister. 'Give me children, or I'll die!' she exclaimed to Jacob. Jacob flew into a rage. 'Am I God?' he asked. 'He is the only one able to give you children!'" (NLT, verses 1-2) Rachel did eventually give birth to two children, one of them the great patriarch, Joseph.

God chose this line of people and set them apart. He intended them to become a nation and promised them they would be fruitful and produce many descendents. He fulfilled this promise, but not without causing the first three generations to struggle with infertility. Having those children did not come easily to Abraham's family. They had to wait. I'm sure they wondered. Sometimes they cried. They prayed.

We Americans tend to believe that things are supposed to come easily and quickly. If something is difficult, we assume it isn't God's will. If God guided us to that marriage or that job, it should go smoothly, right?

Reflecting on this first book of the Bible, I had to remind myself that isn't always so. God's plans may take a long time to come to fruition. The path may be difficult. And that's not necessarily because we're fouling things up. It may just be that God planned it that way.

God had an overall plan of building a nation from Abraham's family, but he also cared about each individual along the way--each building block of that nation. Maybe he wanted them to think about his promise constantly, to think about Him. Perhaps he wanted them to depend on him and know those children came from him and his grace.

Whatever the reason God gave them these struggles, I'm sure that each of these babies, when they finally arrived, seemed like little miracles.

Does God Waste His Spirit on Arts and Crafts?

My Chronological Bible reading is taking me through Exodus right now. Some of those chapters are slow-going. Lots of lists and instructions on how to construct the Tabernacle, how to build the Ark of the Covenant, even how to make the robes for the priests. (I have to admit that last part interested me most. I love fashion!)

Then some verses in chapter 35 jumped out at me. God chose specific individuals to work on His tabernacle, the place where he would meet and interact with his people, because of their skill in arts and crafts. Not only that, he had specifically given them the skills they needed, through his Spirit. Here's the exact quote (from the NIV version):

"Then Moses said to the Israelites, "See, the LORD has chosen Bezalel son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, and he has filled him with the Spirit of God, with skill, ability and knowledge in all kinds of crafts--to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood and to engage in all kinds of artistic craftsmanship. And he has given both him and Oholiab son of Ahisamach, of the tribe of Dan, the ability to teach others. He has filled them with skill to do all kinds of work as craftsmen, designers, embroiderers in blue, purple and scarlet yarn and fine linen, and weavers—all of them master craftsmen and designers." (Exodus 35:30-35)

I sometimes wish God had gifted me to be a doctor or nurse, so I could actually help people. Or given me the ability to preach or to understand deep doctrines. Instead, I'm interested in making up stories, and sewing, and making jewelry.

I love these verses, that remind me that He has uses for the artsy-craftsy people, too. Someday He may have a project that He has uniquely gifted one of us for.

How God is Not Like a GPS Device

This time last week, my husband and I were on our way to Atlanta to visit his cousin and her family for the evening. We decided this would be an excellent time to test out the GPS device I received for Christmas. We had Adrienne's address, and I thought I knew the approximate area she lives in, but we didn't have specific directions. So off we went.



If you're familiar with Atlanta, you know there are many ways to get wherever you want to go. You can hit I-285, the "Perimeter," and go around what used to be the outer rim of the city. If you're braver, you can take I-75/I-85 right smack through downtown. These two interstate highways flow together for a few miles through the middle of town, then split again. While they're together (the Connector), they are not for the faint of heart. About six lanes wide, they're always crowded. If the cars aren't in gridlock, they zip along at somewhere between 65 and 400 miles an hour, approximately three inches from one another. And here we were, testing the GPS.



First of all, with the two of us listening to the spoken directions and me reading the directions on the little screen, I still managed to misinterpret the GPS lady's first crucial directions. (I know it's just an electronic voice, but it sounds like an irritated woman. She's probably irritated because we seldom do what she says.) For about 15 minutes, the direction at the top said "I-75 to I-285 West." I knew you could get to Adrienne's neighborhood by taking I-285 West, so that made sense, and I told Dave that's what we were doing. But at the very last second, she told us to get in the left lane and take I-75. Ha! Not only is the GPS lady irritated, she's also insane! So we just got on I-285 West.



Usually when we disobey, she gets over her snit pretty quickly and recalculates to follow our preferred route. Not this time. We followed her next directions, and by golly, she made us circle around and get back on I-75.



You'd think I would have learned after that experience. A few miles later, in the 400-mile-an-hour bumper-to-bumper traffic, we approached the split where I-75 and I-85 would go their separate ways. I was sure we needed to go to the right on I-85, but she kept telling us to keep left on I-75. We started to panic. My eyes were glued to the screen. I told Dave maybe I was wrong and didn't really know where Adrienne lives, because GPS Lady insisted we stay on I-75.



When we were literally at the split, the lady barked at us to go left on I-85! This time Dave managed to do it, but let me tell you, it was pretty exciting for a few seconds there.



All in all the GPS device is amazing. It led us right to Adrienne's door. You know by now how my mind works. When I first started playing with this device, I thought, I could make an analogy out of this. It's like God's guidance. He only shows me one turn at a time. I have to trust it's the right one and that I'll end up in the right place, because I'm not seeing a list of all the turns ahead of me. Plus, I might not always understand the route that's chosen for me. I might look back and think, hey, I could have chosen a more direct route. There's some reason for the choice that I'm not privvy to--but there is a reason.



But then my analogy started breaking down. God's guidance may seem to be late in coming--but it always comes at exactly the right time. God knows the whole story. He knows about the wild drivers and the bumper to bumper traffic. He knows how long it's going to take us to make a move, and he's going to take give us just enough time to make that move--safely.



For less heavily populated areas, though--I'm still going to love using my GPS!

Off Track for Forty Years

Say the name "Moses" and what comes to mind? Leading the children of Israel out of slavery in Egypt, through the wilderness to the Promised Land, right? But did you ever notice how much of Moses' life had passed before he even reached that part of his life's story? So was that the whole point to his life? Was he just waiting around to become the man who freed the slaves?

All this came to mind because I've started reading Exodus in my chronological Bible, which begins with the account of the Israelites falling into slavery in Egypt. That, in turn, brings us to the story of Moses.

Awhile back, I was in an online writers' group (not ACFW, the one I'm in now). When one new member introduced herself, she related a number of impressive things she accomplished early in her life. Then she said, "But I killed the Egyptian, so that got me off track for years." There was an immediate outcry from the other members. "What does that mean?" "You killed somebody!"

I had to laugh. I knew what she meant. She made a bad decision, or did something that got her off of that straight path to success. Moses did the same thing. In the opening chapters of Exodus, Moses has lived a cushy life in Pharaoh's palace, but he starts to visit his people, the Israelite slaves. He starts to identify with them. He seems to be right on track to fulfill God's plan. God is obviously about to move, in his life and theirs.

Then Moses gets into a fight with an Egyptian overseer, kills him, and has to flee into the wilderness. He remains there forty years. Talk about getting off track!

Moses was already forty when he killed the Egyptian. Add another forty to that and you come up with the ripe old age of eighty--and there he is, still in the wilderness.

Sometimes lately, I feel pretty old. I work with college students who are younger than my cat. I'm in a new online writers' group, with people half my age publishing multiple books per year while I still struggle for that first contract. It's quite reassuring to me that when Moses was eighty, he hadn't even gotten started on the most important accomplishments of his life. Once again I remind myself that God's timing is so different from mine. If he wants to use me now or thirty years from now, he'll do just that. He can give me the energy, the strength, whatever I need.

Want to bet you're going to be hearing a lot more about Moses?

Speaking Wickedly for God

In my Chronological Bible reading for January 22, a passage from Job 13 struck me. (The events of Job may have taken place very early, perhaps around the time of Abraham, so I'm already reading about this poor man's trials.) After literally losing everything including family, wealth, and physical well-being, Job's so-called friends come to comfort him. Their idea of comfort is telling him he has obviously sinned or God wouldn't be doing this to him. When Job protests that he is innocent and has done nothing to deserve his fate, they continue to "speak for God," telling him God would never be unfair as he is suggesting. Therefore, Job must have sinned, and God is punishing him and demanding his repentance.


Job then warns the men of the danger of speaking falsely for God--even when you're trying to slant things in his favor. The NLT version I was reading put it this way: "Are you defending God by means of lies and dishonest arguments?" The NIV says, "Will you speak wickedly on God's behalf? Will you speak deceitfully for him?" According to Job, God doesn't like you speaking for Him and getting it wrong, even if you're doing it out of good intentions. Job says "you will be in serious trouble with him if even in your hearts you slant your testimony in his favor."


As a writer who hopes to demonstrate Christian principles through her stories (and even on this little blog), I took this warning to heart. My characters often talk about God's nature and what he would want them to do in a given situation. It's a solemn thing to "speak for God" that way, even in a fluffy little fiction story.

I've heard a similar warning put another way, something like, "Never make yourself out to be more merciful than God." I remember after Hurricane Katrina, how so many people were eager to speak up for God and absolve him of any "wrongdoing." God doesn't want innocent people to suffer, they said, and so the storm wasn't his will. He would never allow such a thing to happen. By the time these well-meaning folks got through, the god they were defending didn't seem to have much power of any kind. That's slanting things in God's favor--and taking him out of control in the process. It's assuming we know as much as God and always know what he's doing. Let me state for the record that I have no idea why Hurricane Katrina occurred--but I still believe God is sovereign and in complete control.

Job didn't know what was going on. But he knew he didn't have all the facts. And neither did his puffed-up friends, who were so eager to tell him what God intended by his trials.

Those of us who write fiction sometimes put our poor characters through trials that would make Job lose patience. Those characters want to know why God is doing these things to them, and all of a sudden, we find ourselves speaking for God through our work. After reading Job 13, that's quite a humbling thought for me.

Order and Chaos

During the first week of reading the One-Year Chronological Bible, I've really zipped through time. Starting with when the earth was formless and void, I've moved all the way through the death of Abraham's wife, Sarah, and the marriage of their son, Isaac.

The main thing that has struck me so far is that God is a God of order, not chaos. He has a purpose and a schedule. Men and women do impulsive things. They can be clueless and arbitrary. They do bad things because of emotions. But God is always there with his plan. Nothing these creatures do throws him into a tizzy. You get the feeling that even their crazy impulsive acts are all worked into his design. Yes, he has to deal with them pretty harshly from time to time, as in that whole flood business. But again, he didn't throw a fit and do it on the spur of the moment. There was a plan, one that took many years to come to fruition. And he included a plan for restoring the human race as well as the animals and the Earth.

On the one hand, God's perfect order makes me feel a little bad. As I have mentioned many times, my life often feels like sheer chaos. Nothing I intend to do seems to work out. I ask myself, can I really be leading a godly life if it seems to be in such disorder?

But then I realize how God has been shaking up the plans of even the godly people in these first chapters of Genesis. He tells Abraham to move to a strange land. I doubt Noah originally intended to devote his life to building a huge boat--0n dry land. When Rebekah made her usual trip to the well for water that fateful evening, she no doubt had her schedule mapped out for the following day. Nice and routine. Instead, she found her whole life shaken up as she headed far away from her home, suddenly engaged to Abraham's son, Isaac.

So maybe it's not such a bad thing to be flexible, to be willing to change our plans at a moment's notice. The trick for me is to figure out when I'm veering off course because God has something better for me to do, or when I'm just being lazy or disorganized.

Either way, when I read through the Bible like this, I'm comforted by the fact that God is always there, picking up the pieces, getting the wayward ones back on track.

On a More Personal Note

When my now-husband-Dave and I got engaged, we had a long-distance relationship. Boy, was it long distance! He lived in Baton Route, LA, and I lived in Atlanta. And yet, here we are together, happily married and living in my hometown, a smallish place a couple of hours from Atlanta. Here's the amazing part. Although having both Dave and my family all in one place was one of the desires of my heart, I did absolutely nothing to arrange it.

When we got engaged, we didn't know for sure where we would be living, but Dave was able to get a transfer to Atlanta and we lived there for about 10 years. That was fabulous, but it gets better. He became interested in another job in his organization--sort of a one-man office that served a large part of the state. The job would require a move to a small town in the northern part of Georgia. I said that if he managed to get the job, I would move there, but I wasn't particularly excited about it. I would be a little further away from my family, away from my Atlanta friends, and would miss out on a lot of the fun things Atlanta has to offer.

Still, I was ready for a change. I had recently made a career move that wasn't making me particularly happy. In fact, I had gone from a small mom-and-pop firm that was like family to a huge, stressful, tense corporate environment. At the end of a day at that place, I would often be at the point of tears. That year, God kept bringing me over and over to Psalm 126, and these verses would jump out at me as though God were speaking them right into my ear:

"Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. He who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with him." (v. 5-6, NIV)

Psalm 126 is about people in bondage being set free, and returning to their homeland. Every time I read it, I felt God was assuring me he was going to release me from that job and bring me to something better. But I had no idea just how literal his promise to me was. Dave put his application in for the new job--and we discovered that the one-man office was being moved from the small town in north Georgia...to my home town! When I found that out, I could feel God smiling down on me, as though saying, "See, I told you!"

Of course, like David in yesterday's post, even while God was behind the scenes working all this out, I had occasion to wonder if anything was ever going to happen. Particularly when, after it seemed that Dave had the job, we were notified that the position was being abolished and it seemed that everything had fallen through. But then, a few weeks later, everything fell back into place. They managed to keep the position, and Dave got the job.

So here we are, seven years later. And these have been seven of the best years of my life, with Dave and my parents and sister and my nice little town all here together. Some days, when things aren't so wonderful, I try to remind myself of what God has done. Because if I had TRIED with all my heart and energy to arrange all this, I would have gotten nowhere. But God had no problem with it at all.

The Point of Doing What You Love

Yesterday our pastor (Chip Miller) talked about receiving a call from God to do something--or having a vision to achieve something for the Lord, something you're sure he wants you to do. He then went on to say that we often get the "what" of a calling before we get the "how." In other words, God may let us know what he wants us to do long before he shows us how that's going to happen.

Chip mentioned several illustrations, but one in particular made me sit up and take notice. He talked about David--how he was called as a youth and annointed to be king of Israel and then...nothing. Not for quite awhile, anyway. One reason this illustration struck me was that I was already planning to do a blog post about David, and along those same lines.

A few years ago, another speaker was talking about David, and how his call to be king wasn't fulfilled for a long time. So what did David do during that time? Did he fret over how to make it happen? Did he plot a political uprising, or try to rally people to support his cause? No, he went about his usual business. He tended sheep. He played the harp and enjoyed his music. And ultimately, God used that talent, that interest, to help move David into the kingship. When the current king, Saul, needed soothing music to steady his nerves, his servants had heard of David and his skill on the harp. They brought him to Saul. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Sometimes it's easy to berate ourselves for "wasting" time. For writing stories, for taking joy in music or sewing or whatever creative drive God has given us. But let's never forget that God may use those very interests and talents to accomplish great things--in our lives, and in his plan.

A Happy Thought for the Holiday

Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, "Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain." And God granted his request. (I Chron. 4:10, NIV)

Most of you are probably familiar with the prayer of Jabez. It was all the rage a couple of years ago to pray the "Jabez prayer." Not long ago, I had a thought about it.

God granted Jabez's requests not only for enlarged territory, but also for God to keep him free from harm and pain. But how did Jabez know that God had granted his prayer? He had to have faith that he had received God's answer, that God was good. Jabez had to keep trusting in that answer every day of his life. Otherwise, it wouldn't really have made any difference. Without faith, Jabez might have started every day in fear and dread, expecting the worst, even though God had granted him the best.

I want that kind of faith. I'm a pessimist by nature. I come from a family of pessimists. In my family, if anyone asked, "Are you going to do such-and-such this weekend, " the answer would be, "If nothing happens before then." The implication was that we fully expected something to happen--and we didn't mean something good.

So I've had to work at the kind of faith that expects God's love and protection every day. Thanksgiving has a lot to do with that. If you constantly thank God for what he's already done, you're reminding yourself of his goodness, and it's easier to expect it the next time. Have you ever noticed in the Bible how many times God reminds the Israelites, "I am the God who brought you out of the land of Egypt"? He's constantly reminding us, "I've taken care of you before. I'll do it again."

So with that happy thought, I'm going to sign off for this week. We're making a nine-hour trip to Mississippi to spend Thanksgiving with my husband's family. I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving, that God will keep you safe whether you travel or stay home, and that we'll all truly be thankful.