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.

Happily Ever After Takes Work!

This past weekend, Dave and I celebrated our twenty-third wedding anniversary. We went to Hilton Head Island, which was also where we spent our honeymoon. Even though it rained all weekend—until the morning we had to leave, of course; isn’t that always the way?—we had a wonderful trip. We walked in the rain, climbed to the top of the lighthouse, ate fresh seafood, and in the evening built a fire and ordered pizza.

Getting married was another one of those dreams of mine that seemed to take forever. I was a few weeks shy of thirty-one when we finally walked down the aisle. At the time, I thought I was ancient. I thought ice ages could have come and gone in the time I spent fretting over whether I would be single forever!

You know, in fairy-tales and movies, getting to the “I Do” is the happy ending, but in the real world, that’s just the beginning. Dave and I had both been single and independent for a long time, not to mention we’re both very stubborn people. So the adjustment was extremely difficult, and I don’t mean for a few weeks or even a few months. Sometimes I think back on the years he had to put up with my attitude and am amazed he’s still around.

Truth be told, if we hadn’t both believed that marriage is forever we probably would have separated in those early years. But we hung in there, and miracle of miracles, today we’re best friends. Happily married—ever after, I hope. But I know it’s easy to slip, and we have to guard our relationship constantly.

I try to remember all of this when I start to despair of my other dreams. I try to remember that each day is a gift the Lord has made, and that if and when I manage to cross over that magic line into fulfillment, well then…that day will have its joys and challenges just like the others.

Then again, I also know that dreams are worth working for. Even on the days when you’d rather throw the whole mess out the window. Looking at my best friend and husband of twenty-three years makes me remember that.

A Strange Thing About Time

Time is an odd thing. At least for me. I've heard it said that the job will always expand to fill the time you have, and I've found that to be true. Give me a deadline in about an hour and I'll do amazing things. Give me a two-paragraph letter to write and eight hours to do it--and it will somehow take eight hours. No more, no less.

Apparently I need structure. Or pressure. You know, all those things I rebel against and hate.
I had all those wonderful days off from work and basically accomplished nothing. I'm on my third day back to the old grind, and I've accomplished more than in my entire vacation.

But it's reassuring to know what God can accomplish through me even when I think there isn't enough. Not enough time, not enough energy, not enough money. But he multiplies it all and makes it come out right somehow.

Maybe that was the problem with all that vacation time, anyway. When I think I have plenty of time I just rely on me and my disastrous organizational skills. The results aren't pretty. But when I'm squeezed and under pressure, I have to go to God. Works out much better, doesn't it?

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.

My Miracle Notebook, Part 2

Here's the conclusion of the story I started yesterday:

The drive home from the conference took a couple of hours, and something interesting started happening in my heart and in my mind. Recently, I had been trying to sell my work in the secular market. But years before, I had been aiming for the Christian fiction field. I started to remember with great nostalgia the Christian conferences, the Christian editors. Oh, I got rejected there, too—but at least the people were kind. At least they provided fellowship and spiritual support.

I remembered a couple of rejections on my current novel that said it was “too traditional,” or something similar. Did that mean too Christian? Could it possibly be fitted for a Christian market? I could hardly believe it, but within two hours, I was already thinking of trying again. Could it be that instead of telling me to quit, God wanted to redirect me? To direct my path?
I prayed all the way back to my neighborhood, and when I was almost home I made a decision. One more try. I would do some rewriting on this novel, try it in a Christian market, and let God show me once and for all whether this door in my life had truly closed.

I stopped in a Christian bookstore close to my house. I hadn’t read Christian fiction for awhile and didn’t know who was publishing what. I browsed and looked at the prominently displayed fiction, the bestsellers, the ones that seemed closest to my writing. That’s when I took out the notebook.

I had bought this cheap little thing at the last minute to take notes during all the wonderful sessions I planned to attend at the conference. So it was, of course, blank. Now, on page one, I wrote down two authors’ names for future reference. One of them was Terri Blackstock. I didn’t buy anything that day, but soon afterward I started reading her books. I was impressed not only by her work, but by how far Christian fiction had come since I last read it. I felt encouraged to start my rewrite.

Not too long after that, my husband returned from a trip to visit his family in another state and asked, “Have you ever heard of Terri Blackstock?”

Dave had told a friend of his family about my writing woes, and she mentioned she knew Terri, who might be able to give me some advice. To make a long story short, that’s exactly what happened. Terri read a sample of my work and encouraged me to keep going. She suggested I might need an agent to help me find the right market, and she referred me to someone. I signed with an agency a few months later.

Now, does this story have one of those magic happy endings, in which I sign a contract and become a best-seller overnight? No. Things have still been agonizingly slow. In fact, it's been about four years since I signed with that agent. But God has provided the strength and direction to keep me going and wait for his timing.

I had frankly forgotten about the notebook until one day when my patience was once again wearing thin and I was starting to question everything. I pulled out the notebook to scribble down a phone number or something trivial, and there it was on the front page—Terri Blackstock’s name. Written as I stood in that bookstore on the darkest day of my writing life. Written at the very time when I wanted to quit. God knew things were moving when I thought everything had come to a crashing halt. He even had me write myself a reminder of that fact!

Sometimes I take out this notebook and look at it, just to remind myself of his love and his presence. And when things feel so unbearably slow or uncertain and I can’t feel anything happening at all, I think about the notebook and ask myself, “I wonder what He’s up to today?”

Big Dog, Small Dog

http://www.flickr.com/photos/jezarnold/146149877/

A couple of days ago, I went for a walk in my neighborhood. I thought I was moving along pretty well, especially considering the heat. And the hills. And did I mention I'm not getting any younger...but I digress. Suddenly I was passed by a young woman juggling the leashes of several dogs. Although they weren't quite as different in size as the ones in the above picture (posted on Flickr by jezarnold), they varied from a little dachshund with short legs (sort of like mine) to a Lab.

All of them appeared happy and full of life. Even though the dog-walker was chugging along at a pretty good pace, all the dogs were keeping up. But it struck me how much harder it must be for the dachshund. To cover the same amount of ground, that little dog had to make so many more steps. I thought, if they keep going that way, eventually the dachshund's going to wear out. The Labs will be loping along, hardly breathing hard, and the little dog will just keel over.

I feel just like that dachshund so many times, especially when it comes to writing. I feel like a tiny little thing, running to keep up with the Labs. Most of the time, I don't succeed. I'm worn out and ready to keel over.

You know who the Labs are, right? The folks who make it seem so effortless. The books seem to flow from them every few months, and they publish their very first novel, and they win awards, etc., etc. And then there's me--and maybe you, too. We struggle to find time to write. Struggle to find the energy to write in the face of those rejection letters. Struggle to find the strength to keep running with the Labs.

But you know what? God made dachshunds and Labs, Chihuahuas and Great Danes. He made John Grisham and he made me.

I realized as I watched those dogs bound past me that their walker knows her dogs. She'll know when that little one is getting tired and needs to slow down. Who knows? Maybe she even picked him up and carried him.

God knows how he made me. And he knows when I need to rest. When I need to be carried. He's always done it so far.

Psalm 37:23-24 (New Living Translation):

"The Lord directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives. Though they stumble, they will never fall, for the Lord holds them by the hand. "

In the Aftermath of Fire. . .The Waiting Game

Today's guest blogger is author Marlo Schalesky. Without further ado, I'll turn it over to Marlo:

Robin, thank you so much for allowing me to share with your blog readers a little about waiting and living after life’s storms. You see, my latest novel, VEIL OF FIRE, deals with the one of the greatest firestorms of American history – the great fire of 1894 Minnesota. The story chronicles not only one town’s journey through fire and its aftermath, but also reflects much of my personal journey through pain, perseverance, and dying to my dreams to live God’s. Below are some questions and answers that talk about what I’ve learned in the waiting, and through the firestorms of life.

Q: In what ways has waiting affected you in your personal life, and how does the theme of Veil of Fire connect with your own life?

A: Once, when I was a child, I believed in miracles. The impossible was only a prayer away. Fairy tales were real, and dreams were free. But somewhere, in the journey, in the waiting and hoping for my dreams, I lost the ability to trust. I stopped daring to believe. And I wondered what happened to me.

Life happened. Failure, discouragement, pain, loss. For me, that failure and pain came in the form of years of infertility, mixed with miscarriages. The failure, the endless waiting with monthly reminders that I wasn’t pregnant, yet again, became for me a fire that burned and scarred me. It was so hard to wait through that, to keep on, to believe and submit to God’s love and will in my life.

And as I’ve been thinking about fires, about living through them, about waiting in the aftermath, I’ve discovered that I’m not alone. Somewhere, somehow, life burns us all. And we realize that this life we live is not the one we once dreamed. The realities of life scar us. Doubts rise. Fear whispers that hope is gone. And what was once a simple faith can fail in the face of that fear.
Then, in the midst of life’s disillusionment, choices appear. Do we retreat? Hide our hurts far from probing eyes? Do we embrace bitterness and cynicism? Do we use deceit to try to obtain our goals? Do we give up, give in, forget that we ever dared to dream? Or is it possible to reach the high places of faith in the low valleys of life’s reality? Can we still live a life of bold faith, of fierce hope, when fairy tales don’t come true? How do we live this life that God has given us when it’s not the life we dreamed?

These are the questions I wanted to explore in Veil of Fire. These are the questions which underlie each character’s journey in the aftermath of the great fire of 1894. They’re the questions that have shaped my life through my own journey through infertility, miscarriage, failure, and loss.

So, for those burned by life, for those who carry scars that cannot be seen, for those who have retreated for fear of more pain, this story is for them, this journey from the hidden places of pain to a new hope in the unhidden truth of Christ’s love.

And I hope, I pray, that God will use Veil of Fire to not only give people a great read, but to also heal hearts and make some lives better in the living of them.


Q: How have you grown personally through your own fires and through writing this book on fire?

A: Through the firestorms of my life, through infertility and miscarriage, and through writing Veil of Fire, God is showing me that I cannot measure his love by my successes and failures, or even by my happiness. Who I am on the inside, how I am being shaped into the likeness of Christ, the character of my life – the color and beauty of it – are what are important to God. And to create that color and beauty, sorrow is necessary. Hurtful things happen. Fires rage. All my dreams don’t come true. But His do.

And in that, I’m starting to understand that my life, too, is a story that God is writing. And since the best stories have conflict, disappointments, and plenty of action, I shouldn’t be surprised when my life takes a turn and my faith is challenged once again.

And yet, my sorrow matters to God, my tears are counted by him as precious. He does not leave me alone in my hurt. He does not abandon me in the fire. He touches me, he heals me, he creates beauty from the ashes of my pain, even when there are more disappointments than victories.

So I’m learning to walk through the fires in my own life. And to dig deeper – not to answer the question of why but the question of who – who is God really, who am I, and who is he making me to be? Those are the questions that matter. Those are the things that help me to face my own fires, accept my own scars.

Q: Tell us about your journey to publication. Have you experienced waiting there too? What have you learned through that?

A: When I was thirteen years old, I wrote a poem on the bus on the way to school. It was about an old tree, forlorn and desolate, standing alone in a field. I read that poem at every recess, tweaked it, polished it, and for the first time, felt the thrill of how the written word can convey profound beauty. That day, I fell in love with writing.

Shortly after that, I told my mother (with all the angst of a newly-turned teenager), “I will just die if I don’t write!” So naturally when I grew up I decided to get my degree in Chemistry. And, oddly enough, I didn’t die. I enjoyed chemistry. But always that desire to write was with me, in the back of my mind, saying “Someday, someday.”

Someday finally came. I started writing articles for various magazines and putting out proposals for book projects. I thought it would be easy to get my first book published, but alas, it took years of writing and honing my craft (7 years, in fact, before my first book was published).

But more than that, it took giving up my dream entirely. For me, I had to come to a place in my heart where I didn’t have to write to be content. I had to let go of that strong desire born at thirteen years old and embrace God’s will for me whether that will included writing or not. Only then, only when my dream had given way to God’s, was I offered a contract by Crossway Books for my first published book released in 2000 .

Q: What’s the biggest mistake you’ve made while seeking publication?

A: Wanting it too badly. Our culture tells us to pursue our dreams, reach for the sky, dream big, nothing’s impossible if only you try hard enough. Sounds good. But for me, that philosophy was deadly. I needed to completely surrender my dreams in order to live God’s. It was like ripping out part of my soul. But it was worth it. Now, when I write, it can be an act of worship and obedience, instead of something that’s all about me and my dreams.

Q: Finally, will you tell us a little more about this powerful new book, Veil of Fire?

Sure, here’s a blurb:
A Raging Firestorm . . .
A Light in the Hills . . .
And a Mystery Rises from the Ash.

In 1894, the worst firestorm in Minnesota history descends on the town of Hinckley. Heat, flame, and darkness sweep through the town, devouring lives, destroying hope. In the aftermath, the town rises from the ashes, its people determined to rebuild their lives.
But in the shadows, someone is watching. Someone is waiting. Someone who knows the secrets that can free them all. A rumor begins of a hermit in the hills - a person severely burned, disfigured beyond recognition. Doubts rise. Fear whispers. Is the hermit a monster or a memory? An enemy or a love once-lost?

Based on historical events, Veil of Fire beckons to a time when hope rose from the smoke of sacrifice, when trust hid behind a veil of fear, when dreams were robed in a mantle of fire . . .

So for me in writing this book was very much an experience of discovering fire as a character with a life, a beauty, and a terror of its own. I discovered how fire can change you, can scar and maim, but in the end, may just make you new. And so, writing with fire is much like writing with God, unpredictable, powerful, but wondrous as well.


For more information about VEIL OF FIRE, a preview of the entire first chapter, and discussion questions for groups, please visit http://www.marloschalesky.com/. Special incentives for book groups also available at www.cookministries.com/readthis. Or to order on amazon, visit amazon.com.

Speaking of Fires

Tiffany Colter recently shared this inspiring story on the ACFW writers email loop. It's exactly the kind of encouragement we writers need, so I asked her if I could pass it on to y'all. Here's Tiffany:

Last night God did an illustrated message for me right in my back yard. When I shared it with my husband he said I should tell some people we knew were discouraged. Writers get SO discouraged sometimes I thought I'd share it with all of you.

Those of you on the prayer loop, Naners, Cheryl, Pam and Amy know that lately I haven't been my usual bubbly self. LOL. Well, if you're going through a "why not me?" moment, month or decade keep reading.

Yesterday we had a rare beautiful day here in Michigan. It was in the 70s, sunny and beautiful. But since we live on a farm surrounded by half a mile in each direction of flat farm land it was, as usual, windy. One of our family's special treats is building a fire. Our fire pit is an old car wheel [the metal part] sunk down in the ground with bricks from our old chimney around it. It is situated in the 10 feet of grass between our ramp to our back door [built during Chris' cancer treatment] and the 'people' door to our garage.

Our six-year-old asked for a fire and Chris was on his way to a business meeting. I said I'd build a fire. It's been a rough month and this last week has been devastating but yesterday God gave us a day of refreshing and I wanted to celebrate with a fire. A time for mommy and her 4 girls to sit out back and smile and read board books and tell stories. [No this isn't back story, yes it is important.]

So I collected a chunk of pages from the old phone book, a toilet paper tube and sticks to create my "wick." [That is my own creation. You're welcome to steal it.] I put a bunch of twigs and branches down in the fire pit, put a couple of split logs around and stuck my wick in the middle. Usually the paper catches fire, carries it down in the wick through the TP tube and down to the brush on the bottom where the fire is protected from the wind. Yesterday the wind was not cooperating. Every time I got something to burn the wind blew it out.

For 15 minutes I tried various combinations of paper and sticks [I had no 'boy scout water' as my hubby calls it to start the fire]. Each time it would catch fire and the wind would blow it out. Once I got a little fire started so in desperation I grabbed some dried grass on the edge of the yard from when Chris mowed Friday but the weight snuffed out the fire.

Then I heard narration start in my head, just like when I'm writing. It was so clear. It said "This fire is like what you're doing in life." I looked in the pit and saw 4 corners smoldering with paper but nothing productive, nothing was burning to catch the logs. Then the narration continued in my head "The very thing that keeps blowing out your fire is what's going to cause it to ignite."
I kid you not at that moment I struck a match and a piece of paper burst in to flames. For some reason I started to run to our wood shack and grab sticks and throw them on the fire. I started jamming paper underneath. The fire ran down the paper underneath the sticks and out of the wind and ignited all the things I'd been trying to light. Something was stirring inside me. The fire jumped almost as high as me [I'm 5 feet tall]. I ran and grabbed a couple of big logs to hold down the twigs. The wind picked up suddenly and stirred the fire in to an all out tizzy. It was roaring and crackling and popping. I stood there and looked at the fire.

As writers we keep lighting fires with queries, magazine queries, editor/agent appointments, requested fulls and we get excited for that requested full until we get the form rejection letter.
But God said to me last night if we keep doing it eventually the right combination of sticks, paper, grass and matches will connect when the wind has slowed to a calm and it will catch fire. Then when that wind resumes, the thing that has been blowing out your dream will cause your dream to burn nearly out of control. At that moment you can throw everything you've got at it. All those dusty full MS sitting in a drawer, all those rejected articles aging on your hard drive, all those lessons from Writer's conference....You can start throwing them on the fire and it will burn.

Be encouraged today. Normally I would have given up on that fire last night but something inside me said no, it became a game to figure out how to get it to light. Let your pursuit of the "publication dream" become fun--a challenge, not a life or death struggle. Then listen for God to speak because the moment will come when preparation meets divine destiny and God will grab hold of you.

Don't give up....and go start a fire.

Tiffany Colter
Writers Career Planning Services
greatcommission2@aol.com

See, I Told You So

This is what encouragement looks like.

I said I was going to publish a guest blog today. But I'm going to postpone that until next week. I feel like offering some encouragement of my own today.

Here is a direct quote from yesterday's post: "So today, I vent! Tomorrow, I'm sure I'll be able to let you know how good God is, and what he has done to encourage me and keep me going. He always does."

I knew it, I knew it! Whenever I'm lagging like that, God always gives me just what I need to keep going one more time.

Last night, I received back my scoresheets and comments from the Genesis contest judges. Two were lukewarm and so-so. One, however, gave me a great score and was very enthusiastic about my work. In every category, her comments were positive. She ended with a comment, "Thanks for keeping the pages turning." She also signed her name, so I can tell that she's a successful, multi-published author in my genre.

As I said yesterday, I haven't had much enthusiasm over my work in awhile--not like I used to get. I don't have to be published or win contests, but every now and then, I need some indication that my writing is working. That someone finds it interesting and gets excited about it. As usual, God knew exactly what I needed to help me take one more step. That's what it's all about. One foot in front of the other. One step at a time.

A verse in the Bible says, "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path." I can't remember where I heard this--probably in a sermon at church. But someone compared this "lamp" to a flashlight. When it's really dark and you use a flashlight, it only lights up a little spot right in front of your feet. It does not light up the entire area for half a mile. You can't see to the end of the road. But you can see where to plant your foot next. One step at a time.

And that's what God always does for me.

My Loaves and Fishes God

I'm in a tizzy tonight. Once again, time has gotten away from me somehow and I haven't worked on my novel. I've been going constantly since I left for work this morning, but here it is almost bedtime and I haven't gotten to the writing. I wish I were one of those high energy people who could stay up half the night and write, then pop back up for work the next morning, but I'm not. I've always needed my sleep. Even back in college, I never could pull those all-nighters.

So tonight I'm trying to remind myself of a lesson God taught me a couple of years ago, when I went back to school after many, many years. I was terrified when I started. I had never tried to work full time and take classes before. I seemed to be exhausted all the time as it was. A number of my colleagues were also working on degrees (I was working at a college, after all), and they scared me to death. They were skipping time with spouses and children. They went without sleep. One co-worker told me she generally started her schoolwork after her husband and child went to bed, worked until two or three a.m., then got back up around six.

I knew I absolutely could not do this. I refused to neglect my family for schoolwork, but I knew I didn't have the energy for the grueling pace my friends were keeping. I feared that, if I could do the degree at all, I would be ready for retirement by the time I finished. I planned to attempt finishing in three to four years, but I didn't know if that would be possible.

At times, the pace did get grueling. I often thought, I just can't do this. I don't have enough time. I don't have enough energy. I don't have the drive.

Somewhere along in there, the story of Jesus multiplying the five loaves and two fishes to feed thousands of people (Matthew 14) started popping up everywhere. It showed up in a couple of daily devotions, the preacher preached on it, I heard it on the radio. Do you ever have that happen? You know God is trying to get something through to you because he drums it into your head over and over.

I wondered what God was getting at. I began to meditate on that story, and I realized it was about Jesus taking something that was not enough, and turning it into plenty. I knew he was trying to tell me that if he could do that with bread and fish, he could do that with anything. With my time. With my energy.

When my energy would lag, when I would start to panic that I couldn't do it, I would pray, "Lord, you are my loaves and fishes God. Multiply me. Make me enough for what you want me to do."

And he did just that. I look back and I can't even tell you exactly how it all worked out. But I never stayed up all night. I spent time with my family and friends. And I finished that degree in two years and two months!

Now here I am, panicking once again that I'm not enough. I don't have the time or energy to write another book. I feel so lazy compared to other writing acquaintances who whip those novels out one after another.

So Lord, I'm just praying to you right now. If you want me to do this, multiply me like the loaves and fishes. Make me enough.

Why Are Our Journeys So Different?

I just had to show you this gorgeous photo of the library where I work. I can say it's gorgeous because I didn't take it. The pro at our college (Sheron Smith) gets all the credit for that.

This photo fits in nicely with some deep and profound thoughts I've been having this week. Okay, actually I struggled yet again with publishing envy, but you'll be pleased to know that I overcame it pretty quickly this time around.

It all started with Miralee Ferrell's post last week. As a part of that posting, I visited Miralee's website and read her story of how she started writing and published her first novel. In February of 2005, Miralee received a prophetic word from a speaker who told her God wanted her to write and to publish. Miralee obediently started writing and learning the craft, and everything fell into place. Now, only a couple of years later, her first novel (The Other Daughter) is due to come out this October.

What an amazing story! I truly believe God does work this way, and I'm happy for Miralee. At the same time, I suffered a couple of ugly, jealous twinges. After all, as you know if you've read my story here, I've wanted to be a writer since I was seven years old, and I've been trying to publish a novel for 30 years. I believe that God called me to write just as he did Miralee. He even provided both of us with an agent from the same literary agency! And yet I wait, and wait, and...

In the midst of my little pity party, God reminded me of a few things. Miralee told us last week about her family's hard times, and their struggle to sell their home. I have quite a different story on that topic. A few years ago, God suddenly provided an opportunity for me (and my husband, of course) to move back to my home town. I interviewed for one job in that town and got it, so I was employed by the time we moved. Our house sold in about two weeks. Everything fell right into place.

And then there's my current job at the library. (You knew I'd tie that in eventually, didn't you!) Five or six years ago, I decided I wanted to change careers. I thought about becoming a librarian, which meant getting a master's degree--which meant coming up with a lot of money I didn't have. I prayed to God that, if this was what he wanted me to do, he would provide the funds. Precisely as I was enrolling in my first classes, I received an inheritance from my aunt which paid--almost to the penny--for the entire degree.

The day I graduated, I had a job interview with the library where I work now. One week later, I was officially a librarian. This may not sound that amazing to you, but there are folks out there who have looked for their first professional library job for years, or had to move across country to get one. I'm in a fairly small town that has very few entry-level librarian positions. God provided for me almost immediately.

So, I play up the areas of my life where I've had to wait. And I tend to focus on writing because it's so important to me. But in other areas, when the timing is right, things just fall into place. I guess my point is, we need to be careful about that envy thing. We're all on different journeys. When God leads us around a bend in the road or makes us just sit down by the ditch and wait for awhile, it's all for a reason. We'll all have to wait on something!

When Life Seems to be Crashing Around You

Today's guest blogger is Miralee Ferrell. Miralee is jubilant lately, and why shouldn't she be? Her first book (The Other Daughter) is being published by Kregel, and will be out in October. When asked about perseverance, however, Miralee had an incredible story to tell. It's not writing-related, but it is about waiting upon the Lord, and His faithfulness, so it fits right in. Here's Miralee:

My husband Allen and I were in trouble and we knew it, but nothing seemed to be working. We’d hit a lot of financial hurdles in the past few years, but this one brought its own truck load of stress and it felt like we were about to be buried under it.

We’d had our house on the market three different times over the past four years, with no success and this time nothing appeared to have changed. We weren’t sure we could hold on much longer as our business was struggling in an economy that had flattened. Housing sales were beginning to strengthen, but ours hadn’t attracted much attention, even with the major renovations to the house and the fact that it sat on thirty acres of beautiful horse country and boasted a year round trout stream running through it.

I was nearing desperation and made the commitment to pray until I sensed a break-through in my spirit. Allen and I also decided to give a generous “break-through” offering that we couldn’t afford, following the scriptural principal of giving over and above our tithes, and asking that the windows of heaven would be opened for us. We prayed about our gift and felt the Lord directing us in the amount as well as the recipient.

Two weeks passed and we continued to press into the Lord, asking Him to provide a buyer. One evening I hit a low, something very unusual for my upbeat personality, and began to cry out to Him, asking for mercy and that He give me a sense of hope.

I began to praise Him and then settled into a time of listening with my spirit….then heard, very softly the following words… “It’ll be sold in one week”… What? Could I have heard the Lord? I’d heard His voice many times in the past, but this seemed too good to be true. One week? We didn’t even have anyone looking. Maybe He meant that within a week, someone would come view it, and we’d start the process…Maybe…a ton of scenarios flooded my mind but that voice persisted…One week.

Two days later a friend called. Their relatives were flying in and looking for a house…he believed our place in the country was just what they wanted, could they come in two days? Of course, I replied…and come they did. Husband and wife, semi-retired, spent several hours walking the property and talking, then returned for another visit the following day. That evening, they called with an offer and the next day we had signed earnest money papers in hand. A total of six days had passed from the time the Lord told me one week! Our long wait had finally ended, our place moved forward and closed on schedule, and God opened doors of possibility from that sale that we’d never imagined….but that’s an entirely new story!

Miralee Ferrell
Author of The Other Daughter, Releasing in October
http://w3.gorge.net/miralee/Author.html to read the opening scene
Blog: http://www.miraleesdesk.blogspot.com/