Do you remember the kaleidoscopes you got as a child? You held the long tube up to the light and looked through to see a myriad of colors at the other end. Then you twisted the tube, the colors changing shapes and designs, with new colors replacing the old ones. It never looked the same way twice.
Christmas is much like that. There’s the green of the Christmas tree itself, as well as wreaths and holly. And don’t forget the mistletoe! Green brings freshness into the staleness of our everyday life. The mundane gets replaced by having a tree in the corner of the living room. What a concept! So it can be with our spirit. Life-as-usual is replaced with the realization that the freshness of Christ Himself came to dwell with man, right in the corner of our living room!
Red lifts our spirits and gladdens our hearts. It’s found in ribbons and bows that wrap around a gift. Isn’t it fun to get presents from our children, spouse, or friends? We place them under the tree, waiting for the right moment to untie the red ribbon and see what lies within. So it is with God’s gift to us. In the fullness of time He presented His gift, the gift of His only son. We can leave that present under the tree, simply admiring its beauty, or we can touch the blood-red ribbon He wrapped the gift with, and open the mystery waiting inside.
Then there’s the beautiful blue that offsets and contrasts with the other Christmas colors. Blue can have a very calming effect on people, and we all know we need a heaping serving of serenity at this time of the year. Though we want everything to be perfect, we have to realize we can’t make that happen. Only God was able to do that.
Think about it—take the stress surrounding the census, a nearly 100-mile donkey trip, a husband who refused to make motel reservations, and a KOA campground that was severely lacking in amenities, and you have the stress surrounding Mary at the time of the first Christmas. I wonder how she was feeling and speaking as she made that long, uncomfortable trip. Was she serene, sitting on the bony back of a donkey mile after mile, a beatific smile on her face, already posing for all the Christmas cards that would grace people’s mantels a couple thousand years later?
Or was she griping like I would have been? "Joseph, are we there yet? My back is killing me. Yes, I’m sure you would have preferred to leave me home with my mother, but a wife’s supposed to follow her husband, you know! Griping? I’ll show you griping! If you think it’s so easy, you try doing this when you’re nine months pregnant!"
The Bible doesn’t record any of that. But what we do know is that Emmanuel, God With Us, joined Mary and Joseph in the midst of their discomfort, fears, uncertainty, economic unrest, and distance from family. Ever been in that place? Isn’t it comforting to know we’re not left to muddle through on our own, but that the very Lord of Heaven walks along beside us?
Silver and gold remind us of the royalty of Christ. Though He came as the babe in the manger, He will return as the conquering king. Every knee will bow before Him in recognition of who He truly is and what He has done for mankind. May we, this Christmas season, look around and see Jesus in the world around us. We don’t have to wait until He comes back.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Book Review of The Fence My Father Built, by Linda S. Clare
Take a father who longs to be part of his daughter’s life, a broken marriage between an interracial couple, and a young girl who grows up knowing a part of her life is missing. Add a legacy of alcoholism and addiction that follows the girl into adulthood, and her need to know the side of the family she was never around. Mix in a rebellious teenage girl, potbellied pigs, an intriguing male neighbor, and a fence line built of oven doors, and you have The Fence My Father Built.
Set mostly in the open range of Central Oregon, Ms. Clare’s novel follows the story of Muri Pond, who has been called to settle some family business left behind when her father dies. A feud existed between her dad and Linc Jackson, the man who "owns" the town, with the ownership of land and a creek in question. It’s up to Muri to find the cause of the disagreement and try to right it. In the process, she discovers much about her own background and faith, and why it’s so important.
Ms. Clare draws from her own experience of discovering her Native American heritage. She brings to life eccentric characters whose lives present an interesting change from the norm. She did a great job capturing the ongoing clash between Muri and her teenage daughter. (I’m thinking the voice of experience here!) Ms. Clare deals with cultural relationships that are seldom explored in books, leading to thought-provoking moments for the reader.
The Fence My Father Built is a well-written novel that will leave you waiting impatiently for Ms. Clare’s next book. I gladly give it four stars.
Set mostly in the open range of Central Oregon, Ms. Clare’s novel follows the story of Muri Pond, who has been called to settle some family business left behind when her father dies. A feud existed between her dad and Linc Jackson, the man who "owns" the town, with the ownership of land and a creek in question. It’s up to Muri to find the cause of the disagreement and try to right it. In the process, she discovers much about her own background and faith, and why it’s so important.
Ms. Clare draws from her own experience of discovering her Native American heritage. She brings to life eccentric characters whose lives present an interesting change from the norm. She did a great job capturing the ongoing clash between Muri and her teenage daughter. (I’m thinking the voice of experience here!) Ms. Clare deals with cultural relationships that are seldom explored in books, leading to thought-provoking moments for the reader.
The Fence My Father Built is a well-written novel that will leave you waiting impatiently for Ms. Clare’s next book. I gladly give it four stars.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
What I Learned at the Knee of NaNo
With a title like this, maybe you think I have a special nickname for my grandma, and I've been sitting at her feet gleaning great wisdom. (As my dad always said, "I learned it at my mother's knee, and certain other joints!")
No, my grandparents have all passed on, so I'm not talking about them. I'm referring to NaNoWriMo, which stands for National Novel Writing Month. It's actually a world-wide writing event, in which you sign up and strive to write 50,000 words during the month of November. My understanding is that 177,000 people signed up for it this year, and 30,000-something met their goal. I'm very happy to say I was one of them!
Fifty thousand words may not sound like a lot, but when I first sat down in front of my blank computer screen, it seemed nearly insurmountable. I only had the germ of an idea for a story. I knew who my main character was and one event that would happen to her, but that was it. Not much to go on, huh?
I decided to jump right in and have something happen to her on the first page. The story began to grow from there. The fun thing about NaNo is that the writer is not allowed to edit themselves as they write. When I've written in the past, I could get hung up for ten minutes looking through my thesaurus trying to find the exact word to express myself. But not during Nano. I had the freedom to throw words on the screen and keep typing. My story makes sense (I didn't repeat one sentence over and over) but it's certainly not good writing. I don't have the layers and subplots woven through like I will when it's polished. But I've got a great start.
For the past year or more I have just dinked around with my writing. I've had so many family situations I've been in the midst of that I felt it wasn't possible to write. And yet at the end of the day I would often think, "Just what have I accomplished today?"
During NaNo I found I could set daily word counts and meet them. Most days I did between 2,000 and 2,500 words, but one day I managed 4,300. I was able to take days off for family activities by going over my quota for several days in a row. I learned to have contests with myself. I wrote down how many words I wrote in a thirty minute time frame and tried to beat it in the next thirty minutes. And I always did.
I learned to say no to some invitations in order to keep writing. I learned that when family crises continued to hit and I didn't want to write I could still force myself to do so, regardless of my feelings.
I think my grandma would be proud.
No, my grandparents have all passed on, so I'm not talking about them. I'm referring to NaNoWriMo, which stands for National Novel Writing Month. It's actually a world-wide writing event, in which you sign up and strive to write 50,000 words during the month of November. My understanding is that 177,000 people signed up for it this year, and 30,000-something met their goal. I'm very happy to say I was one of them!
Fifty thousand words may not sound like a lot, but when I first sat down in front of my blank computer screen, it seemed nearly insurmountable. I only had the germ of an idea for a story. I knew who my main character was and one event that would happen to her, but that was it. Not much to go on, huh?
I decided to jump right in and have something happen to her on the first page. The story began to grow from there. The fun thing about NaNo is that the writer is not allowed to edit themselves as they write. When I've written in the past, I could get hung up for ten minutes looking through my thesaurus trying to find the exact word to express myself. But not during Nano. I had the freedom to throw words on the screen and keep typing. My story makes sense (I didn't repeat one sentence over and over) but it's certainly not good writing. I don't have the layers and subplots woven through like I will when it's polished. But I've got a great start.
For the past year or more I have just dinked around with my writing. I've had so many family situations I've been in the midst of that I felt it wasn't possible to write. And yet at the end of the day I would often think, "Just what have I accomplished today?"
During NaNo I found I could set daily word counts and meet them. Most days I did between 2,000 and 2,500 words, but one day I managed 4,300. I was able to take days off for family activities by going over my quota for several days in a row. I learned to have contests with myself. I wrote down how many words I wrote in a thirty minute time frame and tried to beat it in the next thirty minutes. And I always did.
I learned to say no to some invitations in order to keep writing. I learned that when family crises continued to hit and I didn't want to write I could still force myself to do so, regardless of my feelings.
I think my grandma would be proud.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Peace in the Pieces
November—the month that makes us realize the year is nearly over. Nights are long and the rainy days seem to last forever. Children complain about sore throats and come home from school with hacking coughs. Christmas is just around the corner, bringing with it the panic of trying to fit in Christmas parties and programs, trips to the mall, cookie baking marathons, and sending out Christmas cards. This is a busy time of year, and we women can easily get overwhelmed. It feels like everyone wants a piece of us.
I believe that within our heart there is a desire to be calm and focused; not caught up in the whirlwind of busyness that surrounds us and threatens to suck us into the vortex of a life out of control. How do we find peace in the midst of chaos?
In John 16:33 Jesus says, "These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world."
Psalm 26:3,4 gives us a beautiful promise: "You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord is everlasting strength."
Another reminder of our source of peace is found in John 14:27 where Jesus tells us of a wonderful gift He is offering—"Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."
We have a choice to make. Will we let God control the events of the day, or try to manipulate them ourselves? It is so important to take/make time at some point each day to settle down in a comfy chair, maybe with a cup of coffee or tea nearby, and just cozy up in the Lord’s lap. Read a favorite passage in the Bible and meditate on the words. How do they apply to your life? What is God saying to you? Just sit and let your thoughts be open to soaking up the truth of God’s word. Then, after your soul has been refreshed, join in the activity around you with a thankful heart. One that knows the source of peace.
I believe that within our heart there is a desire to be calm and focused; not caught up in the whirlwind of busyness that surrounds us and threatens to suck us into the vortex of a life out of control. How do we find peace in the midst of chaos?
In John 16:33 Jesus says, "These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world."
Psalm 26:3,4 gives us a beautiful promise: "You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord is everlasting strength."
Another reminder of our source of peace is found in John 14:27 where Jesus tells us of a wonderful gift He is offering—"Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."
We have a choice to make. Will we let God control the events of the day, or try to manipulate them ourselves? It is so important to take/make time at some point each day to settle down in a comfy chair, maybe with a cup of coffee or tea nearby, and just cozy up in the Lord’s lap. Read a favorite passage in the Bible and meditate on the words. How do they apply to your life? What is God saying to you? Just sit and let your thoughts be open to soaking up the truth of God’s word. Then, after your soul has been refreshed, join in the activity around you with a thankful heart. One that knows the source of peace.
Monday, November 16, 2009
How Embarrassing!
Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to say you have a blog, but you rarely post anything?
What does a non-blogger, who has a blog, look like? Their skin is creased and wrinkled from holding their head in their hands while moaning, "Alas, alas. What can I possibly write about that would be of interest to others?" A flabby stomach greets them when they finally rise from hours spent in front of a blank computer screen. Vericose veins march their way across the non-bloggers thighs in protest of too little walking. Eyes are dull, just like one's mind. It's a sad state of affairs, I tell you. Either that, or old age!
My postings have been so few, and so far apart, that I'm sure no one reads them but me. But I've found a new sense of discipline this month and I believe I can start posting a couple times a week. Even if I'm the only one who reads them, at least I can be consistent.
My new realization that I can be disciplined about my writing has come from participating in a world-wide event during the month of November. It's called National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo for short. Or NaNo for shorter. The goal is to write 50,000 words of a new novel during November. That's a lot of words for most of us to reach in that amount of time.
This came at the perfect time for me. I had just come up with the germ of an idea for a new story I wanted to write on my own. I had just become represented by a new agent who I know will require a lot from me. So I signed up. At this point, I've written 27,549 words. I think I'm going to make it!
And as I go through the rest of the month, I'll also blog. They may not be deep and insightful, but as I've found by NaNoing, they just need to be written.
What does a non-blogger, who has a blog, look like? Their skin is creased and wrinkled from holding their head in their hands while moaning, "Alas, alas. What can I possibly write about that would be of interest to others?" A flabby stomach greets them when they finally rise from hours spent in front of a blank computer screen. Vericose veins march their way across the non-bloggers thighs in protest of too little walking. Eyes are dull, just like one's mind. It's a sad state of affairs, I tell you. Either that, or old age!
My postings have been so few, and so far apart, that I'm sure no one reads them but me. But I've found a new sense of discipline this month and I believe I can start posting a couple times a week. Even if I'm the only one who reads them, at least I can be consistent.
My new realization that I can be disciplined about my writing has come from participating in a world-wide event during the month of November. It's called National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo for short. Or NaNo for shorter. The goal is to write 50,000 words of a new novel during November. That's a lot of words for most of us to reach in that amount of time.
This came at the perfect time for me. I had just come up with the germ of an idea for a new story I wanted to write on my own. I had just become represented by a new agent who I know will require a lot from me. So I signed up. At this point, I've written 27,549 words. I think I'm going to make it!
And as I go through the rest of the month, I'll also blog. They may not be deep and insightful, but as I've found by NaNoing, they just need to be written.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Review of A Slow Burn, by Mary DeMuth
What would you do if you were called to the morgue to identify the body of your thirteen-year-old daughter? What emotions would course through your soul as you were hit with the realization your drug and alcohol abuse may have played a part in the loss of your only child? What guilt might you attribute to her young friend, Jed, who was the last person to see her alive?
Emory Chance is a mother living through such an unthinkable situation. She seeks to find out who murdered her daughter, and why. Things like this just don't happen in their small Texas town. Others deal with problems of their own: Hixon, a man who believes God has told him to marry Emory, though they have little in common, and Jed, the boy reeling under the regret of not walking his friend home after they had last played together. The lives of these three characters intersect in unusual ways, up to the last pages of the book.
A Slow Burn is the sequel to Mary DeMuth's novel, Daisy Chain. It's important to read them in the correct order. Ms. DeMuth's writing is stellar--deep and flowing. The characters come alive and may remind you of people you've known in your past. Huge topics of forgiveness, regret, guilt, and blame are dealt with. This book will grab your emotions and give them a hard twist before leaving you with a satisfying ending. The two books would make a wonderful Christmas present. I give A Slow Burn one of my rare five-star ratings!
Emory Chance is a mother living through such an unthinkable situation. She seeks to find out who murdered her daughter, and why. Things like this just don't happen in their small Texas town. Others deal with problems of their own: Hixon, a man who believes God has told him to marry Emory, though they have little in common, and Jed, the boy reeling under the regret of not walking his friend home after they had last played together. The lives of these three characters intersect in unusual ways, up to the last pages of the book.
A Slow Burn is the sequel to Mary DeMuth's novel, Daisy Chain. It's important to read them in the correct order. Ms. DeMuth's writing is stellar--deep and flowing. The characters come alive and may remind you of people you've known in your past. Huge topics of forgiveness, regret, guilt, and blame are dealt with. This book will grab your emotions and give them a hard twist before leaving you with a satisfying ending. The two books would make a wonderful Christmas present. I give A Slow Burn one of my rare five-star ratings!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Expect the Unexpected
Just a quick note today before flying out to the national American Christian Writers Conference, held this year in beautiful Denver, CO. I always have these grand plans of being prepared a day ahead of time, just needing to put my toiletries in at the last minute. But, as usual, I was up late last night finishing my to-do list.
One of the necessary things before taking off on a trip is to make sure the bills are all paid. Because John is a school teacher and just gets paid during the school year, summer is a lo-o-o-ng stretch with little income. By the time September rolls around we're counting the days until the end of the month and a pay check. But there was no getting around it on Saturday--I had to pay those pesky bills.
I wondered aloud, "Lord, how are we going to do this?" I closed the checkbook and walked away, still stymied. A few minutes later Christina brought my mail and placed it on the counter. What did I find tucked between various junk mail and fliers? A check from the school district John had tuned for several weeks ago--to the "tune" of $1,000. Thank you Lord!
On Monday I happened to stick my hand in the back pocket of a pair of capris and felt a hard lump. (No, it wasn't me!) I dug a little deeper and pulled out a folded roll of $14. I realized it was left over from going to the State Fair and not wanting to carry a purse. What's funny is that those pants had gone through the wash probably four or five times since then, and the money was still perfect. It wasn't enough to do much on the bills, but it was there. Thank you, Lord!
God gives us unexpected blessings more than we realize. It may be a $14 blessing--an easy-to-find-parking space, a new checkout line opening up at the grocery store when we're in a rush, or a phone call from a friend--these small things we blithely accept, then move on. It's the $1,000 blessings that garner our attention--healing from a disease, a restored relationship, a job after being out of work for months. But I say blessings are blessings are blessings! Keep your eyes open today for what the Lord is doing in your life. I'd love for you to leave a comment and let me know what you see!
One of the necessary things before taking off on a trip is to make sure the bills are all paid. Because John is a school teacher and just gets paid during the school year, summer is a lo-o-o-ng stretch with little income. By the time September rolls around we're counting the days until the end of the month and a pay check. But there was no getting around it on Saturday--I had to pay those pesky bills.
I wondered aloud, "Lord, how are we going to do this?" I closed the checkbook and walked away, still stymied. A few minutes later Christina brought my mail and placed it on the counter. What did I find tucked between various junk mail and fliers? A check from the school district John had tuned for several weeks ago--to the "tune" of $1,000. Thank you Lord!
On Monday I happened to stick my hand in the back pocket of a pair of capris and felt a hard lump. (No, it wasn't me!) I dug a little deeper and pulled out a folded roll of $14. I realized it was left over from going to the State Fair and not wanting to carry a purse. What's funny is that those pants had gone through the wash probably four or five times since then, and the money was still perfect. It wasn't enough to do much on the bills, but it was there. Thank you, Lord!
God gives us unexpected blessings more than we realize. It may be a $14 blessing--an easy-to-find-parking space, a new checkout line opening up at the grocery store when we're in a rush, or a phone call from a friend--these small things we blithely accept, then move on. It's the $1,000 blessings that garner our attention--healing from a disease, a restored relationship, a job after being out of work for months. But I say blessings are blessings are blessings! Keep your eyes open today for what the Lord is doing in your life. I'd love for you to leave a comment and let me know what you see!
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