Over the past few years, I’ve used writing as a reward in order to get other things done—things I hate to do, like clean the house, wash the clothes, buy the groceries. You get the idea. But I wanted so badly to write that I would work hard to get through the “have to” list in order to be able to do my “want to” list.
Today I realized I’ve done a complete turn around. Here’s what happened:
When we moved nearly 2 years ago, we gave up a whole room dedicated as our library. It had been the formal living room, but we wrapped floor to ceiling bookshelves around two walls, added two comfy chairs with a small table between and a couple of bright lamps. We LOVED that room! My husband and I spent many evenings in there reading or talking.
In the new house, we lost that space. Our bookshelves were regulated to the small “office” room. It was a bit claustrophobic in there. Soon after we moved in I suggested nixing the formal dining room and redoing our library. My husband balked. I let the idea drop. Last month he came in with a “great idea”—turning the formal dining room (which we’ve used twice in two years) into the library. I immediately began making plans.
The room has been empty for a couple of weeks now, but I haven’t had time to move the books and shelves and create our much loved space. I’m hoping it will happen this weekend, but a big precursor is unloading the bookcases. However, I haven’t let myself touch them—until today.
Why today? Because I’ve met my word count on my book for two out of the past three days! All of a sudden, I’m using other things as a reward for persevering with my writing! It’s a very exciting thing. It isn’t that I now see writing as work, as a “have to”, but instead that I have finally given myself permission to declare my writing work has value and worth in and of itself. It’s a big day for me. And with my revamped library and office space, I hope I’ll be even more productive in the days and weeks to come.
3/27/2008
3/25/2008
My Tuesday
Articles drafted: 1
Novel pages revised: 12
New novel words written: 2118
Watching my son come to the mound, top of the 6th, bases loaded, two outs and striking out the batter in three pitches: priceless
Novel pages revised: 12
New novel words written: 2118
Watching my son come to the mound, top of the 6th, bases loaded, two outs and striking out the batter in three pitches: priceless
3/20/2008
Ski Trip Update
I haven’t had much time at my computer this week, which, on a family vacation, is a good thing. But for those of you (mostly family, I guess) looking for an update, here are some highlights of the trip so far (pictures to follow when we get home):
Saturday morning: My husband woke us all up after he woke up—a little after 4 am! We were on the road by 5. Needless to say, this significantly affected my planned “writing time” as we drove since it was dark for the first almost four hours and, having been forced awake at such an unnatural hour, it took me until lunch time to be fully awake! The positive: we were in Colorado Springs less than 12 hours later and had a relaxing evening.
Johnson & Wales University: the tour was very impressive. Denver seems to be a nice city. Now she just has to decide between the two schools. Each has a very different style and its own pros and cons.
Skiing: Great—not too cold, not too snowy, but not icy, either. I’m in better shape than when we went two years ago and had forgotten how enjoyable it is to swoosh down a wide, not too steep, not too mogully mountain trail. Yesterday, my youngest son’s binding come off his ski—a fluky thing which the ski shop said they’d never seen happen. The fun part was he got to ride down on the ski patrol snowmobile.
We’re going tubing this afternoon, then skiing again tomorrow. We’ve had wonderfully relaxing evenings of movies and games (and now basketball, since the NCAA tournaments starts today.) By Saturday morning, I think we’ll all be ready to head home, but I think we’ve all enjoyed this respite from our busy lives.
Saturday morning: My husband woke us all up after he woke up—a little after 4 am! We were on the road by 5. Needless to say, this significantly affected my planned “writing time” as we drove since it was dark for the first almost four hours and, having been forced awake at such an unnatural hour, it took me until lunch time to be fully awake! The positive: we were in Colorado Springs less than 12 hours later and had a relaxing evening.
Johnson & Wales University: the tour was very impressive. Denver seems to be a nice city. Now she just has to decide between the two schools. Each has a very different style and its own pros and cons.
Skiing: Great—not too cold, not too snowy, but not icy, either. I’m in better shape than when we went two years ago and had forgotten how enjoyable it is to swoosh down a wide, not too steep, not too mogully mountain trail. Yesterday, my youngest son’s binding come off his ski—a fluky thing which the ski shop said they’d never seen happen. The fun part was he got to ride down on the ski patrol snowmobile.
We’re going tubing this afternoon, then skiing again tomorrow. We’ve had wonderfully relaxing evenings of movies and games (and now basketball, since the NCAA tournaments starts today.) By Saturday morning, I think we’ll all be ready to head home, but I think we’ve all enjoyed this respite from our busy lives.
3/14/2008
Spring Break
From mid-eighties today to below freezing tomorrow. Yes, we are leaving sunny Texas (have we lost our minds? Um—yes!) for snowy Colorado. First we visit Johnson and Wales University in Denver. Then we head off to the slopes for a few days. I don’t know what kind of internet accessibility I’ll have but I’ll try to post some pictures this week.
Most of all I’m hoping to get some good writing done on the drive up and back and some good reading done in the condo in front of the fire. Since my ideal ski day is hit the slopes at 10:00, eat lunch at 11:30, end the day at 2:00, I should have lots of time to lose myself in few books (assuming my kids ski from can til can’t.)
Hope your Spring Break is restful and full of memory-making.
Most of all I’m hoping to get some good writing done on the drive up and back and some good reading done in the condo in front of the fire. Since my ideal ski day is hit the slopes at 10:00, eat lunch at 11:30, end the day at 2:00, I should have lots of time to lose myself in few books (assuming my kids ski from can til can’t.)
Hope your Spring Break is restful and full of memory-making.
3/11/2008
We Love You, Miss Hannigan!
“Your daughter makes a great drunk.”
I heart that comment over and over again on Friday. No, my 16 year old hadn’t been hitting the bottle. She’d been playing Miss Hannigan, the mean and nasty mistress of the orphanage that tried to repress the optimism of red-headed Annie. She’s not the best singer in the world, but boy can she nail a character! I think she scared some of the little girls in the audience!
She’s gotten more comfortable with the singing part, too, adding dancing (which she’s never really done) for this particular role. She worked so hard and had so much fun. It’s been amazing to watch her confidence grow since her freshman year when she landed the role of Bloody Mary in South Pacific in spite of her hesitancy to sing. Now she takes the stage with the same energy and excitement we see in her on the basketball court.
She has no theatrical aspirations beyond high school, but what she has learned from her years in drama will be invaluable in whatever her future holds. And we’ve had so much fun watching her transformation!
I heart that comment over and over again on Friday. No, my 16 year old hadn’t been hitting the bottle. She’d been playing Miss Hannigan, the mean and nasty mistress of the orphanage that tried to repress the optimism of red-headed Annie. She’s not the best singer in the world, but boy can she nail a character! I think she scared some of the little girls in the audience!
She’s gotten more comfortable with the singing part, too, adding dancing (which she’s never really done) for this particular role. She worked so hard and had so much fun. It’s been amazing to watch her confidence grow since her freshman year when she landed the role of Bloody Mary in South Pacific in spite of her hesitancy to sing. Now she takes the stage with the same energy and excitement we see in her on the basketball court.
She has no theatrical aspirations beyond high school, but what she has learned from her years in drama will be invaluable in whatever her future holds. And we’ve had so much fun watching her transformation!
Is It Already Morning?
I don't know about you, but it takes me at least a week to adjust to Daylight Savings Time. Why do the same seven hours of sleep seem like so much less?
3/04/2008
Fine Results in Fine Arts
Long ago, when I was in the 4th grade, I got a B (or a C, I don’t remember) on an art project. Mostly I remember it wasn’t an A and I told the teacher I’d tried so hard and she told me it didn’t matter how hard I tried, that my art wasn’t good enough to get an A. I decided then and there I wasn’t artistic. Which I’m not. But I assumed this extended to my children. Which apparently it doesn’t.
In our school’s district art competition, my daughter took home two 2nd place medals—mixed media and watercolors—and my son took 1st place in pen and ink drawing! WOW! I was floored! So we will take those pieces on to the state competition next month.
My drama queen daughter (and yes, she gets it from me) also garnered 2nd place in solo acting with her Fantine monologue from Les Miserables.
I guess you could say our family had a good day. Two kids. Four events. Three 2nd place medals. One 1st place medal.
I guess you can tell I’m not a proud mama or anything!
In our school’s district art competition, my daughter took home two 2nd place medals—mixed media and watercolors—and my son took 1st place in pen and ink drawing! WOW! I was floored! So we will take those pieces on to the state competition next month.
My drama queen daughter (and yes, she gets it from me) also garnered 2nd place in solo acting with her Fantine monologue from Les Miserables.
I guess you could say our family had a good day. Two kids. Four events. Three 2nd place medals. One 1st place medal.
I guess you can tell I’m not a proud mama or anything!
3/03/2008
Gaining Momentum
Four of the past six days have been 2000 word days. Woo-hoo! That is nothing short of miraculous given all that is going on with school/kids activities these days--track meets, piano competitions, musical dress rehearsals, academic and art competitions. The best part is I see that I've learned over these past several years of writing how to better manage my time and how to pace myself so I can be more productive--and more sane--in all areas of my life.
Now if I can only maintain through the craziness of spring . . .
Back to work!
Now if I can only maintain through the craziness of spring . . .
Back to work!
2/27/2008
The Women of Troy Hill
One of the things I love most about used book stores is the possibility of unearthing a jewel. Sometimes a jewel is a book I’ve been searching for and haven’t been able to find. Suddenly it’s there, glittering like a diamond. I snatch it up before someone else sees. But even more exciting are the hidden jewels, the books I’ve never heard of but that catch my eye and capture my interest. At the time of purchase, they are simply an interesting rock. But sometimes the reading of them chips away at the unknown and leaves a valuable gem I am glad I didn’t miss.
Such is the case with a book I recently found. The Women of Troy Hill: The Back-Fence Virtues of Faith and Friendship is a book I will cherish. Clare Ansberry, the Pittsburgh bureau chief for the Wall Street Journal wrote this book eight years ago. It is the story of a Pittsburgh neighborhood, Troy Hill, and the women who live there—some of whose families have lived on Troy Hill for three or four generations. It is a story of ordinary women’s lives, and yet, none of their stories seemed ordinary. It is stories of family ties and of friendships strengthened over the course of decades, not just years. It is the story of faith that is lived daily, practically, not just on Sundays. It is a reminiscence of earlier eras, of daily life as our mothers and grandmothers experienced it. It is a celebration of lives well lived. And it is a challenge to raise our sights and standards to encompass some of what we have lost.
Oh—and the bonus? My current novel is set in Pennsylvania, my husband’s home state. This book happened to have a couple of tidbits of information that actually helped with my characters, given that my characters, too, are long time Pennsylvanians of German descent!
This beautifully written tribute to women who spent their lives loving their God, their families, and their friends, will always remain on my library shelf.
Such is the case with a book I recently found. The Women of Troy Hill: The Back-Fence Virtues of Faith and Friendship is a book I will cherish. Clare Ansberry, the Pittsburgh bureau chief for the Wall Street Journal wrote this book eight years ago. It is the story of a Pittsburgh neighborhood, Troy Hill, and the women who live there—some of whose families have lived on Troy Hill for three or four generations. It is a story of ordinary women’s lives, and yet, none of their stories seemed ordinary. It is stories of family ties and of friendships strengthened over the course of decades, not just years. It is the story of faith that is lived daily, practically, not just on Sundays. It is a reminiscence of earlier eras, of daily life as our mothers and grandmothers experienced it. It is a celebration of lives well lived. And it is a challenge to raise our sights and standards to encompass some of what we have lost.
Oh—and the bonus? My current novel is set in Pennsylvania, my husband’s home state. This book happened to have a couple of tidbits of information that actually helped with my characters, given that my characters, too, are long time Pennsylvanians of German descent!
This beautifully written tribute to women who spent their lives loving their God, their families, and their friends, will always remain on my library shelf.
2/26/2008
Ready for a Change
I love winter. I really do. But by this time of year I’m ready for a change. Winter feels like a houseguest that has overstayed his welcome.
Yesterday I thought spring had arrived for good. For two or three weeks now the birds have been chirping me awake and flitting from tree to bush all day long. Usually that’s the first indication. Then yesterday the sun burst out in all its springtime brilliance and warmed us to 83 degrees! It was glorious!
But by the time we exited the Mavericks game last night (thanks to friends who invited us to sit in some awesome seats!), we were shivering again. Yup. Another cold front. Spring may be nudging its way in, but it hasn’t bested winter yet.
Yesterday I thought spring had arrived for good. For two or three weeks now the birds have been chirping me awake and flitting from tree to bush all day long. Usually that’s the first indication. Then yesterday the sun burst out in all its springtime brilliance and warmed us to 83 degrees! It was glorious!
But by the time we exited the Mavericks game last night (thanks to friends who invited us to sit in some awesome seats!), we were shivering again. Yup. Another cold front. Spring may be nudging its way in, but it hasn’t bested winter yet.
2/22/2008
Fahrenheit 451
Somewhere in my education I missed Fahrenheit 451. I corrected that this past week. Have you read this book? It was fascinating and terrifying all at once! I kept looking back at the original copyright date because it bore a freakish similarity to direction of our culture. Everything going fast, fast, fast. The people bombarded with images and sound. No time to think. No reason to read. A stupefied population walking blankly through their days talking about nothing, thinking about less.
If you are a writer—or a reader—and you haven’t read this book, or haven’t read it in a long time, run, don’t walk, to your nearest bookstore and pick up a copy. It will energize you to continue to do what you to, to continue to value thoughts and ideas and words. And if you get a chance to buy the 50th Anniversary edition—get it. It includes a fascinating interview with the author!
If you are a writer—or a reader—and you haven’t read this book, or haven’t read it in a long time, run, don’t walk, to your nearest bookstore and pick up a copy. It will energize you to continue to do what you to, to continue to value thoughts and ideas and words. And if you get a chance to buy the 50th Anniversary edition—get it. It includes a fascinating interview with the author!
2/18/2008
Leslie's New Website!
Want to see a great new website? My friend and critique partner Leslie Wilson is a very funny lady, whether writing or speaking. She’s also very practical. She writes and talks about her two favorite subjects: being a wife and being a mom. She calls her ministry "Reality Motherhood." Her website reflects the whimsical and the practical in her. Check it out here! She’s started a blog, too, as well as a weekly ezine full of tips and stories. And don’t miss the “store” on her site, where you can buy CDs of her speeches and her famous “tip” sheets—reusable, laminated lists of all kinds of different things, from chore charts to beach vacation packing for your family to birthday party planning, formulated to help keep moms organized and sane.
2/15/2008
Ministering With My Kids
I spent the morning at the North Texas Food Bank with a group of ninth and tenth graders. We took food donated by individuals through local grocery stores during Super Bowl week and packed it in boxes to be distributed to food pantries and other ministries in the North Texas Area. The North Texas Food Bank distributed 3 million pounds of food last month alone.
We did this through our school’s mission program, instituted three years ago. I love going on these quarterly mission days with our middle school and high school students. Today I realized why.
Not only do these days give me a time and place to do something “others” focused, but working alongside my children and their friends gives us a shared experience. It’s not like a regular field trip where the moms cluster together and talk while the kids do whatever the activity is. On mission days, the parents work with the kids, often letting them take the lead role. And as we work together, we see each other as people instead of as “adults” and “teenagers.”
I like, too, that our mission days give the kids—and adults—the opportunity to experience different kinds of ministry work. Some prefer the opportunities to minister directly to people by feeding the homeless, interacting with refugees, taking meals to shut-ins, while others (like me) prefer task oriented ministry—doing a more “menial” task that is but one cog in a large wheel of ministering to a persons’ needs, like organizing donated clothes or packing boxes of donated food. We all have a place, and a gift. And I like that we help the kids discover what fits the way God made them.
We will go out again on a Friday in April. I can’t wait to see what opportunities await us!
We did this through our school’s mission program, instituted three years ago. I love going on these quarterly mission days with our middle school and high school students. Today I realized why.
Not only do these days give me a time and place to do something “others” focused, but working alongside my children and their friends gives us a shared experience. It’s not like a regular field trip where the moms cluster together and talk while the kids do whatever the activity is. On mission days, the parents work with the kids, often letting them take the lead role. And as we work together, we see each other as people instead of as “adults” and “teenagers.”
I like, too, that our mission days give the kids—and adults—the opportunity to experience different kinds of ministry work. Some prefer the opportunities to minister directly to people by feeding the homeless, interacting with refugees, taking meals to shut-ins, while others (like me) prefer task oriented ministry—doing a more “menial” task that is but one cog in a large wheel of ministering to a persons’ needs, like organizing donated clothes or packing boxes of donated food. We all have a place, and a gift. And I like that we help the kids discover what fits the way God made them.
We will go out again on a Friday in April. I can’t wait to see what opportunities await us!
2/13/2008
Another Season Ends
The books are closed on another basketball season. The final game—last night—was a playoff tiebreaker game against an archrival to see who got the final playoff spot. We lost. But the boys played hard.
It was a wonderful season in many respects. Our daughter matured so much, learning to keep her cool on the court, learning to enjoy the game and her teammates whether winning or losing (and mostly losing!) My middle school son learned how to lose graciously and he learned a lot about the game of basketball from a young coach who played at the college level.
But one of the greatest joys of this season has been watching my ninth grade son. He is an athlete, though and through, but he is small and not particularly fast. He is sports-smart, however, understanding the complexities of the game, and he hustles. As one of two freshmen, he knew he’d sit the bench all season, like he did in football (small school, not enough kids for a JV team.) That frustrates him, because he loves to play. But he did it anyway, working hard in practice, taking care of the boys who played in games by having water and an encouraging word ready when they came out of the game, just like he did in football.
The coach noticed. What I think started as an effort to reward his hard work prior to district play became a habit and then an official proclamation: my son was given the duties of captain of the team. He even got to play several times, sometimes even for a few minutes in a close game.
Last night was an example of what he’s done all season. After getting the water and encouraging the guys during time outs, coach put him in the game in the fourth quarter for about three minutes. He hustled, had a couple of assists and a couple of rebounds. Plenty of glory for a teenaged boy. He went back to the bench—and back to getting the water. A servant leader if I’ve ever seen one. I wish I could say we taught him that, either by words or example. But I think not. I think if I boast I must boast in the Lord, for He made my son that way. What most of us spend a lifetime learning, He gave to this child as a gift. And it humbles me to watch it.
So our lives will slow a bit now—but just a bit, mind you! The school musical is in three weeks, with my daughter playing a major role. Middle school baseball starts up soon. The yearbook deadline looms, as do academic and art competitions. A small school keeps everybody busy. But when it affords me the chance to watch my children grow and change, becoming more and more like Christ, and gives then opportunities to discover and develop talents and abilities bestowed on them by God that they had no idea they possessed, it’s worth the effort and the busyness.
It was a wonderful season in many respects. Our daughter matured so much, learning to keep her cool on the court, learning to enjoy the game and her teammates whether winning or losing (and mostly losing!) My middle school son learned how to lose graciously and he learned a lot about the game of basketball from a young coach who played at the college level.
But one of the greatest joys of this season has been watching my ninth grade son. He is an athlete, though and through, but he is small and not particularly fast. He is sports-smart, however, understanding the complexities of the game, and he hustles. As one of two freshmen, he knew he’d sit the bench all season, like he did in football (small school, not enough kids for a JV team.) That frustrates him, because he loves to play. But he did it anyway, working hard in practice, taking care of the boys who played in games by having water and an encouraging word ready when they came out of the game, just like he did in football.
The coach noticed. What I think started as an effort to reward his hard work prior to district play became a habit and then an official proclamation: my son was given the duties of captain of the team. He even got to play several times, sometimes even for a few minutes in a close game.
Last night was an example of what he’s done all season. After getting the water and encouraging the guys during time outs, coach put him in the game in the fourth quarter for about three minutes. He hustled, had a couple of assists and a couple of rebounds. Plenty of glory for a teenaged boy. He went back to the bench—and back to getting the water. A servant leader if I’ve ever seen one. I wish I could say we taught him that, either by words or example. But I think not. I think if I boast I must boast in the Lord, for He made my son that way. What most of us spend a lifetime learning, He gave to this child as a gift. And it humbles me to watch it.
So our lives will slow a bit now—but just a bit, mind you! The school musical is in three weeks, with my daughter playing a major role. Middle school baseball starts up soon. The yearbook deadline looms, as do academic and art competitions. A small school keeps everybody busy. But when it affords me the chance to watch my children grow and change, becoming more and more like Christ, and gives then opportunities to discover and develop talents and abilities bestowed on them by God that they had no idea they possessed, it’s worth the effort and the busyness.
2/06/2008
The Exact Perfect Gift
It’s been a technologically frustrating 2008 for me. First, after months of having the colors on my laptop screen skew at random, I tweaked it too much and cracked the screen. Now, besides the black line across one corner, everything on my screen is tinted blue. Makes it hard to see things in red, such as anything done in the Track Changes mode of Word.
On top of that, my wonderful laser printer informed me that it needed a new drum. No problem. I ordered and installed one. So now every few lines are faded. Makes each page a bit hard to read. My poor critique group has endured this for several weeks.
Add to that a bit of a money crunch at our house and I have been left to endure. I’m not complaining, mind you. I’m not even throwing a fit. I know how insignificant these things really are. They are just annoying. So fellow Life Sentence-ers Mary DeMuth and Leslie Wilson conspired to give me a boost for my birthday. They gave me a gift card to Office Max to help remedy whatever it could.
Simple, right?
Never!
Backstory: Apparently when they went to get the gift card, they were out. Completely out of gift cards! Go figure! So they had to buy something and then return it to get a Merchandise Credit card. Okay. No big deal. But in doing so, it made an odd amount, because of tax.
After much consideration, I went to Office Max to buy a new printer, one that was on sale and, with my “merchandise credit” and a coupon, would cost me $5 or so. Again, never as simple as it seems. The first store was out of the desired printer. Today I went across town to another Office Max. No printers on the shelf, but a wonderful guy found one in the back. I took it to the register, handed the man my coupon and my card, and waited, cash in hand, to hear what I owed.
The man looked at me, incredulously. “It’s the same amount.”
“What do you mean?”
“The card.” He looked back at his register. “It’s exactly the same amount as the printer. To the penny.”
I just laughed. God is so good. He let my friends give me the EXACT perfect gift for my birthday! So here’s to happy printing, where all the words come through on the page. Thanks Mary and Leslie!
On top of that, my wonderful laser printer informed me that it needed a new drum. No problem. I ordered and installed one. So now every few lines are faded. Makes each page a bit hard to read. My poor critique group has endured this for several weeks.
Add to that a bit of a money crunch at our house and I have been left to endure. I’m not complaining, mind you. I’m not even throwing a fit. I know how insignificant these things really are. They are just annoying. So fellow Life Sentence-ers Mary DeMuth and Leslie Wilson conspired to give me a boost for my birthday. They gave me a gift card to Office Max to help remedy whatever it could.
Simple, right?
Never!
Backstory: Apparently when they went to get the gift card, they were out. Completely out of gift cards! Go figure! So they had to buy something and then return it to get a Merchandise Credit card. Okay. No big deal. But in doing so, it made an odd amount, because of tax.
After much consideration, I went to Office Max to buy a new printer, one that was on sale and, with my “merchandise credit” and a coupon, would cost me $5 or so. Again, never as simple as it seems. The first store was out of the desired printer. Today I went across town to another Office Max. No printers on the shelf, but a wonderful guy found one in the back. I took it to the register, handed the man my coupon and my card, and waited, cash in hand, to hear what I owed.
The man looked at me, incredulously. “It’s the same amount.”
“What do you mean?”
“The card.” He looked back at his register. “It’s exactly the same amount as the printer. To the penny.”
I just laughed. God is so good. He let my friends give me the EXACT perfect gift for my birthday! So here’s to happy printing, where all the words come through on the page. Thanks Mary and Leslie!
2/02/2008
Cheering Them On
A local high school is performing Les Miserables this weekend. As that is a favorite at our house, my daughter and I went last night. They did a great job. No, it wasn’t Broadway caliber, but for a group of 16, 17, and 18 year-olds, it was fantastic.
I loved the music and the story, as usual, but most of all I loved watching high school students take on such an enormous challenge. It’s what I love about watching high school sports, too. And seeing high school art pieces. And observing high school leadership in areas of school government or service projects. It’s seeing young people learn to overcome obstacles, to persevere, to become disciplined, to encounter adversity, to be humble in success. To grow up. We are given a glimpse into who God made them to be and how He is shaping them to be it.
Some years, it happens through success, through accolades and awards. Some years, character is forged in the fires of failure, of hard choices, of unfairness. But none of it is wasted.
When it is my own kids (and sometimes their friends), I get the added responsibility of talking through the situations, helping them process their course of action or their feelings, helping them recognize God’s hand in every situation. But in every situation, such as by standing and clapping at the end of the production last night, I get to encourage, to cheer on these young people striving to become adults. And in that, I find great joy.
I loved the music and the story, as usual, but most of all I loved watching high school students take on such an enormous challenge. It’s what I love about watching high school sports, too. And seeing high school art pieces. And observing high school leadership in areas of school government or service projects. It’s seeing young people learn to overcome obstacles, to persevere, to become disciplined, to encounter adversity, to be humble in success. To grow up. We are given a glimpse into who God made them to be and how He is shaping them to be it.
Some years, it happens through success, through accolades and awards. Some years, character is forged in the fires of failure, of hard choices, of unfairness. But none of it is wasted.
When it is my own kids (and sometimes their friends), I get the added responsibility of talking through the situations, helping them process their course of action or their feelings, helping them recognize God’s hand in every situation. But in every situation, such as by standing and clapping at the end of the production last night, I get to encourage, to cheer on these young people striving to become adults. And in that, I find great joy.
1/24/2008
Basketball Blues
With SIX basketball games a week, when’s a girl supposed to get any writing done? My days are spent catching up on house stuff because that we aren’t home in the evenings do, or that get pushed out of the way by things like homework and dinner. Between boys middle school, girls varsity and boys varsity, we go to games Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday—on a typical week. Then there are weeks like this one: a holiday on Monday, therefore THREE games on Tuesday alone! All at the same place! Four solid hours of basketball! I love basketball and I love watching my kids play but . . .
A couple more weeks and the season will end. Thankfully, only one team has the possibility of a playoff run.
1/21/2008
Persuasion
I’ve reserved my judgment about the new Masterpiece (they’ve dropped “Theatre” apparently) version of Jane Austen’s Persuasion until I had time to watch it, uninterrupted. I finally got the chance yesterday, curled up on the couch under a blanket, the main TV in the house all to myself.
Now I have to admit: I love the 1995 version of this-book-turned-movie. I’ve seen it probably 100 times. And I’ve read raging debate all over the internet among Jane Austen lovers about which version is better, etc. I wanted to give this one a chance. After all, the story is so good it would be hard to mess it up, right?
I thought the casting and acting and sets and costumes were fine. No problem. My beef is with the writer, the one who wrote this screen play adaptation, and with the director. I felt rushed through each scene, no unfolding of character, just a hurry to say the words that would advance the plot. I couldn’t even tell Henrietta from Louisa Musgrove because they were only onscreen a little bit, when the plot required their presence, but because I didn’t know them, the plot they helped shape felt contrived.
The writer also moved one of the best lines—the one that is supposed to be the hinge on which the story turns, and plops it into the middle of the movie where the lines are said but nothing happens as a result of them. On top of that, instead of letting Anne’s pain and desperation show in her words and actions, the writer tells it by having Anne write journal entries which are voice-over so the viewer can “hear her thoughts” so to speak. Anne is also shown sobbing alone. In the other version, we knew how Anne felt, that she probably sobbed in her private moments, but we didn’t have to see them to know—and it tugged at our hearts more deeply. Subtlety and pacing were both, in my opinion, neglected shamefully.
Finally, my biggest criticism of the director comes when Anne and Captain Wentworth realize they love each other and want each other to know it. The director chooses, at this critical moment, to focus the camera on Anne’s face only. There is no romantic satisfaction in that! That would be like only looking at the bride at a wedding. But isn’t the real moment in a wedding when you see both the bride and groom gazing at each other, adoration naked on their faces? We were cheated out of that moment in this film.
So I’ll go on loving the 1995 version, the one with Amanda Root and Ciaran Hinds. The 2007 version will fade quickly from my mind.
Now I have to admit: I love the 1995 version of this-book-turned-movie. I’ve seen it probably 100 times. And I’ve read raging debate all over the internet among Jane Austen lovers about which version is better, etc. I wanted to give this one a chance. After all, the story is so good it would be hard to mess it up, right?
I thought the casting and acting and sets and costumes were fine. No problem. My beef is with the writer, the one who wrote this screen play adaptation, and with the director. I felt rushed through each scene, no unfolding of character, just a hurry to say the words that would advance the plot. I couldn’t even tell Henrietta from Louisa Musgrove because they were only onscreen a little bit, when the plot required their presence, but because I didn’t know them, the plot they helped shape felt contrived.
The writer also moved one of the best lines—the one that is supposed to be the hinge on which the story turns, and plops it into the middle of the movie where the lines are said but nothing happens as a result of them. On top of that, instead of letting Anne’s pain and desperation show in her words and actions, the writer tells it by having Anne write journal entries which are voice-over so the viewer can “hear her thoughts” so to speak. Anne is also shown sobbing alone. In the other version, we knew how Anne felt, that she probably sobbed in her private moments, but we didn’t have to see them to know—and it tugged at our hearts more deeply. Subtlety and pacing were both, in my opinion, neglected shamefully.
Finally, my biggest criticism of the director comes when Anne and Captain Wentworth realize they love each other and want each other to know it. The director chooses, at this critical moment, to focus the camera on Anne’s face only. There is no romantic satisfaction in that! That would be like only looking at the bride at a wedding. But isn’t the real moment in a wedding when you see both the bride and groom gazing at each other, adoration naked on their faces? We were cheated out of that moment in this film.
So I’ll go on loving the 1995 version, the one with Amanda Root and Ciaran Hinds. The 2007 version will fade quickly from my mind.
1/17/2008
Lost and Found
This is how frazzled I’ve been lately:
Last night I changed out of my jeans and into my workout clothes to go walk while my son took his piano lesson. This morning, I woke up, tired and cold, and looked for my jeans on the floor of my closet. They weren’t there. The top I wore yesterday was there, but not the jeans.
Perhaps I had folded them and put them back in their place. I looked up to the top shelf. Only one pair of jeans, not two, met my eye. I frowned, picked up several things on my closet floor. Still no jeans. Finally, I put on the folded pair to run to my Moms In Touch prayer time.
But the mystery still niggled at me. Where could those jeans have gone? They weren’t in the laundry basket. They weren’t under my bed. They weren’t in my closet. The only time I’ve had something go missing that I knew I put on the floor was years ago when we lived in apartment with rats and my kitchen towel went from the middle of the kitchen floor to underneath the water heater. Yuck!
But no rat could be big enough to drag off a pair of jeans! The dog? Perhaps. But she’d never done anything like that before.
I couldn’t shake the irritation of not knowing where those jeans went. After all, I only have the two pair. I came home at lunchtime in a frenzy of determination to find my jeans. I knew they couldn’t have grown feet and walked off, as I so often remind my children. I searched high and low, finally tossing aside the purple throw crumpled in the middle of the love seat in my bedroom.
Wa-la! My jeans! Then I remembered: in anticipation of the cold morning, I had placed my jeans in my room (as opposed to my cold closet) under the blanket so they would be somewhat warm when I put them on in the morning.
Too, too many things to keep track of in my head right now. I guess cold jeans I can find are better than warm jeans I can’t!
Last night I changed out of my jeans and into my workout clothes to go walk while my son took his piano lesson. This morning, I woke up, tired and cold, and looked for my jeans on the floor of my closet. They weren’t there. The top I wore yesterday was there, but not the jeans.
Perhaps I had folded them and put them back in their place. I looked up to the top shelf. Only one pair of jeans, not two, met my eye. I frowned, picked up several things on my closet floor. Still no jeans. Finally, I put on the folded pair to run to my Moms In Touch prayer time.
But the mystery still niggled at me. Where could those jeans have gone? They weren’t in the laundry basket. They weren’t under my bed. They weren’t in my closet. The only time I’ve had something go missing that I knew I put on the floor was years ago when we lived in apartment with rats and my kitchen towel went from the middle of the kitchen floor to underneath the water heater. Yuck!
But no rat could be big enough to drag off a pair of jeans! The dog? Perhaps. But she’d never done anything like that before.
I couldn’t shake the irritation of not knowing where those jeans went. After all, I only have the two pair. I came home at lunchtime in a frenzy of determination to find my jeans. I knew they couldn’t have grown feet and walked off, as I so often remind my children. I searched high and low, finally tossing aside the purple throw crumpled in the middle of the love seat in my bedroom.
Wa-la! My jeans! Then I remembered: in anticipation of the cold morning, I had placed my jeans in my room (as opposed to my cold closet) under the blanket so they would be somewhat warm when I put them on in the morning.
Too, too many things to keep track of in my head right now. I guess cold jeans I can find are better than warm jeans I can’t!
1/14/2008
Books, Books, Books
My friend Mary tagged me on this fun blogger game.
1. One book that changed your life.
Bright Captivity by Eugenia Price. I read this historical novel at a time when I was wrestling through issues in my own life. I resolved that I didn’t ever want to act as selfishly as the main character did, which pushed me to deepen my relationship with the Lord.
2. One book that you have read more than once.
Only ONE!!??!! I’ve read so many over and over. The one I’m re-reading now is The Train to Estelline by Jane Roberts Wood.
3. One book you would want on a desert island.
My Bible--with all its notes in the margins and dog-earred pages.
4. Two books that made you laugh.
The 2 ½ Pillars of Wisdom: The Von Igelfeld Trilogy by Alexander McCall Smith. I know, technically that’s three books, but I bought them as one volume and all three of them made me laugh out loud. Seriously. And since I count those three as one book, the other book that made me laugh is every Jeeves and Wooster novel by P.G. Wodehouse. Love ‘em!
5. One book that made you cry.
My family would say that every book makes me cry, but I guess I’ll go with Jane Eyre. I read it again in 2007. I can’t help it.
6. One book you wish you'd written.
Little Women. I love that it spans so much of the girls’ lives and that its characters and story still impact girls and women today.
7. One book you wish had never been written.
The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood. I had to read this book in college and I hated it!
8. Two books you are currently reading.
The Train to Estelline by Jane Roberts Wood and I don’t have a second book going at the moment.
9. One book you've been meaning to read.
Techniques of the Selling Writer by Dwight Swain.
10. Five people that I tag: Rachelle, Heather, Carla, Tina and Richard.
1. One book that changed your life.
Bright Captivity by Eugenia Price. I read this historical novel at a time when I was wrestling through issues in my own life. I resolved that I didn’t ever want to act as selfishly as the main character did, which pushed me to deepen my relationship with the Lord.
2. One book that you have read more than once.
Only ONE!!??!! I’ve read so many over and over. The one I’m re-reading now is The Train to Estelline by Jane Roberts Wood.
3. One book you would want on a desert island.
My Bible--with all its notes in the margins and dog-earred pages.
4. Two books that made you laugh.
The 2 ½ Pillars of Wisdom: The Von Igelfeld Trilogy by Alexander McCall Smith. I know, technically that’s three books, but I bought them as one volume and all three of them made me laugh out loud. Seriously. And since I count those three as one book, the other book that made me laugh is every Jeeves and Wooster novel by P.G. Wodehouse. Love ‘em!
5. One book that made you cry.
My family would say that every book makes me cry, but I guess I’ll go with Jane Eyre. I read it again in 2007. I can’t help it.
6. One book you wish you'd written.
Little Women. I love that it spans so much of the girls’ lives and that its characters and story still impact girls and women today.
7. One book you wish had never been written.
The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood. I had to read this book in college and I hated it!
8. Two books you are currently reading.
The Train to Estelline by Jane Roberts Wood and I don’t have a second book going at the moment.
9. One book you've been meaning to read.
Techniques of the Selling Writer by Dwight Swain.
10. Five people that I tag: Rachelle, Heather, Carla, Tina and Richard.
1/09/2008
Romans 5:3-5
I’ve been a bit frustrated and discouraged with my writing lately. One of my writer friends has been with hers, too. As I was praying the other morning, the Lord reminded me of a verse we had discussed at length at church not long ago. I read it again and sent it to my friend.
Last night, as I lay in bed, I personalized the verse with my writing in mind. So here is Romans 5:3-5, the Writer’s translation:
And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations (our frustrations with plot and characters and finding time to write and telling the story of our hearts and rewriting and rewriting and rewriting that story again and again!), knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance (even when we walk away from the work, declare it drivel, swear we will not continue to waste our time, we come back—hours, days, weeks, months, perhaps years later—with fresh insight, with renewed vigor, with determination to tell the story in the best possible way); and perseverance, proven character (tweaking words, analyzing characters and plot, unwilling to let the story remain untold or to let it be told in a way that is less than our best); and proven character, hope (that the story will minister to someone—even if the only someone is me!); and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.
Last night, as I lay in bed, I personalized the verse with my writing in mind. So here is Romans 5:3-5, the Writer’s translation:
And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations (our frustrations with plot and characters and finding time to write and telling the story of our hearts and rewriting and rewriting and rewriting that story again and again!), knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance (even when we walk away from the work, declare it drivel, swear we will not continue to waste our time, we come back—hours, days, weeks, months, perhaps years later—with fresh insight, with renewed vigor, with determination to tell the story in the best possible way); and perseverance, proven character (tweaking words, analyzing characters and plot, unwilling to let the story remain untold or to let it be told in a way that is less than our best); and proven character, hope (that the story will minister to someone—even if the only someone is me!); and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.
1/05/2008
New England White
It’s been a very long time since I’ve read a book that so drew me in as a reader and so fascinated me as a writer as did the book New England White. This is the second novel by Yale law professor Stephen L. Carter. It gripped me from page one. I read all 550 or so pages within five days—even taking it to my kids’ basketball tournament and reading during time-outs and half-times!
This mystery/suspense is intelligent as well as page turning—and the plot and characters are so intricate that I am almost desperate to pick Mr. Carter’s writing brain to learn some of his processes for plotting and writing such a book. (I’ve searched for an email address for him and haven’t found one. Nor does he have a writer website. Who knows? Maybe he’ll find this post and contact me!) Anyway, I rarely have this insatiable desire to contact a published author, but as I am at a bit of a stalemate with my own novel writing, I would love some tips from a writer who accomplished such memorable characters in such fascinating circumstances.
I highly recommend this book. But don’t pick it up unless you’re willing to let everything else go until it’s finished!
This mystery/suspense is intelligent as well as page turning—and the plot and characters are so intricate that I am almost desperate to pick Mr. Carter’s writing brain to learn some of his processes for plotting and writing such a book. (I’ve searched for an email address for him and haven’t found one. Nor does he have a writer website. Who knows? Maybe he’ll find this post and contact me!) Anyway, I rarely have this insatiable desire to contact a published author, but as I am at a bit of a stalemate with my own novel writing, I would love some tips from a writer who accomplished such memorable characters in such fascinating circumstances.
I highly recommend this book. But don’t pick it up unless you’re willing to let everything else go until it’s finished!
12/31/2007
Twelve Mighty Orphans
I don’t often read non-fiction. When I do, my preference is either history or biography—both for pleasure and research for novels. Early in December, for my husband’s birthday, we gave him three books he asked for—1 biography, 1 history, 1 a combination of history and biography. Well, after he read the combo, he told me I needed to read it. So I did.
And what an enjoyable experience! Twelve Mighty Orphans by Jim Dent is the ultimate underdog sports story. Beginning in the depression and continuing into the days of WWII, Mr. Dent, an engaging sportswriter, tells the story of the underfunded (or should I say non-funded), undersized football program at the Masonic Home, an orphanage in Fort Worth, Texas. He interweaves the story of football with the biographies of key players. It is an engaging and fascinating read, both from biographical and historical standpoints. In fact, I learned much about the history of the city I grew up in from this book!
So if there is a sports fan or a history buff in your life and you’re wondering what a good read for them might be, try this one. I think they’ll be glad you did.
And what an enjoyable experience! Twelve Mighty Orphans by Jim Dent is the ultimate underdog sports story. Beginning in the depression and continuing into the days of WWII, Mr. Dent, an engaging sportswriter, tells the story of the underfunded (or should I say non-funded), undersized football program at the Masonic Home, an orphanage in Fort Worth, Texas. He interweaves the story of football with the biographies of key players. It is an engaging and fascinating read, both from biographical and historical standpoints. In fact, I learned much about the history of the city I grew up in from this book!
So if there is a sports fan or a history buff in your life and you’re wondering what a good read for them might be, try this one. I think they’ll be glad you did.
12/27/2007
The Last Week of December
I have a love/hate relationship with the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day. Let me set the stage for you. I love Christmas. I love the decorations and the presents and meditating on various facets of Jesus’s foray into our world to bring us life and hope. But, of course, being the Mom, most of the preparations fall to me. And after five weeks of parties and programs and shopping, I’m tired.
So what I want, in that week after Christmas, is to rest. To let everything go and just “be.” But then the other me raises her head—the organized me. I don’t get a frenzy to “clean out” in the spring time, like normal people. For me, that feeling always hits the week before a new year begins. I have this insatiable desire to begin the new year fresh, with closets organized and files weeded of old documents and everything in its place.
Somehow I wish I could have a “week after Christmas” to rest and a “week before the new year” to clean out and organize. But, alas, they are the same week. Some years the rest wins out. Other years I breathe a satisfied sigh when the last closet is straight and accessible. Which will win this year? Who knows. Considering that the next two days I’ll be at a basketball tournament, son and daughter both participating, it might be neither one!
So what I want, in that week after Christmas, is to rest. To let everything go and just “be.” But then the other me raises her head—the organized me. I don’t get a frenzy to “clean out” in the spring time, like normal people. For me, that feeling always hits the week before a new year begins. I have this insatiable desire to begin the new year fresh, with closets organized and files weeded of old documents and everything in its place.
Somehow I wish I could have a “week after Christmas” to rest and a “week before the new year” to clean out and organize. But, alas, they are the same week. Some years the rest wins out. Other years I breathe a satisfied sigh when the last closet is straight and accessible. Which will win this year? Who knows. Considering that the next two days I’ll be at a basketball tournament, son and daughter both participating, it might be neither one!
12/21/2007
The Gift
I was reminded this week of a Christmas story I wanted to share with you. It is a story that began the Christmas I was 17 and, I thought, finished when I was 21. But several years ago when I needed to speak at a women’s retreat, the Lord brought the story to mind again and showed me a spiritual truth in it that I had not seen before. Now I’d like to share the whole story with you.
I always had a penchant for books. And really long books were my favorite. So digging around under the Christmas tree my senior year of high school, I found a book-shaped package with my name on it. I thrilled at the thickness of it. I wondered what it could be. I pondered day and night until curiosity got the best of me. One day when no one was around, I took my package into the bathroom and locked the door. Then I carefully unwrapped it. Heart pounding with excitement, I turned it over.
Jane Austen, the cover read, followed by what appeared to be several titles. Who in the world is that? (Yes, even in my AP English class we didn’t read her.) I had a vague sense that she had written things long ago. Disappointed, I re-wrapped the book and set it back under the tree.
Christmas morning, I unwrapped it and pretty much tossed it aside without another thought. Fast forward three years. I’m in college now, majoring in history, minoring in English. I take a class called The English Novel where I read Emma by Jane Austen. I’m hooked. I love this woman! Even then it takes a little while to connect her to the dust-gathering monstrosity of a book on my bookshelf. I pull it down. The book contains all of Austen’s works. I am amazed. I am thrilled. An unexpected gift that was already mine!
Many years later, the Lord brought this story to mind and I saw it in a whole new light. I realized that often we receive gifts from the Lord that puzzle us. We have little to no understanding of what to do with it, why it is important. We toss it aside, let it gather dust, until one day something triggers a memory of that gift and makes it suddenly relevant. And often, like my Jane Austen collection, not just relevant, but a treasure.
So as you unwrap your gifts this Christmas, remember that some gifts take time to appreciate. And remember that the gifts God gives to us are never without reason.
I always had a penchant for books. And really long books were my favorite. So digging around under the Christmas tree my senior year of high school, I found a book-shaped package with my name on it. I thrilled at the thickness of it. I wondered what it could be. I pondered day and night until curiosity got the best of me. One day when no one was around, I took my package into the bathroom and locked the door. Then I carefully unwrapped it. Heart pounding with excitement, I turned it over.
Jane Austen, the cover read, followed by what appeared to be several titles. Who in the world is that? (Yes, even in my AP English class we didn’t read her.) I had a vague sense that she had written things long ago. Disappointed, I re-wrapped the book and set it back under the tree.
Christmas morning, I unwrapped it and pretty much tossed it aside without another thought. Fast forward three years. I’m in college now, majoring in history, minoring in English. I take a class called The English Novel where I read Emma by Jane Austen. I’m hooked. I love this woman! Even then it takes a little while to connect her to the dust-gathering monstrosity of a book on my bookshelf. I pull it down. The book contains all of Austen’s works. I am amazed. I am thrilled. An unexpected gift that was already mine!
Many years later, the Lord brought this story to mind and I saw it in a whole new light. I realized that often we receive gifts from the Lord that puzzle us. We have little to no understanding of what to do with it, why it is important. We toss it aside, let it gather dust, until one day something triggers a memory of that gift and makes it suddenly relevant. And often, like my Jane Austen collection, not just relevant, but a treasure.
So as you unwrap your gifts this Christmas, remember that some gifts take time to appreciate. And remember that the gifts God gives to us are never without reason.
12/17/2007
A Christmas Luncheon and A Precursor of Days to Come
It’s been a C R A Z Y week and half! Sorry I’ve been silent.
Last Tuesday, Mary DeMuth, Leslie Wilson, and I hosted a table at the Friends of the Library Christmas luncheon. It was a table filled with—what else? Writers! Five other writers joined us for a yummy lunch and great conversation. Wish you could have been there!
Last Tuesday, Mary DeMuth, Leslie Wilson, and I hosted a table at the Friends of the Library Christmas luncheon. It was a table filled with—what else? Writers! Five other writers joined us for a yummy lunch and great conversation. Wish you could have been there!
I’ve had a fun few days hanging out with my youngest—my 13 year old. His brother and sister are off on a mission trip (more on that when they return) and it’s been fun to have him all to myself. It’s a little preview of what it will be like in just three and a half short years, when he is the only one left at home. And it’s been great. He’s been incredibly amiable and I think is reveling in our alone time as much as I am.
I’ve still got Christmas errands to run and writing to get done, but I promise you will hear more from me soon. Until then, take time to notice the sights and sounds of the season all around you and enter into the joyous celebration of the birth of our Savior.
I’ve still got Christmas errands to run and writing to get done, but I promise you will hear more from me soon. Until then, take time to notice the sights and sounds of the season all around you and enter into the joyous celebration of the birth of our Savior.
12/09/2007
Tis the Season
The tree is up, the lights are on. It even turned cold outside—finally.
This is the week of Christmas frenzy before things settle a little into what I hope will be a fun, yet restful, family Christmas. I realize we haven’t many left like this. This year and next, then my daughter will be in college and I know how quickly things can change! My first Christmas after high school, I had a serious boyfriend. By the second Christmas in college, he was my fiancé. By the third Christmas, I was married. So I take nothing for granted.
So this week I will help host a table of fellow writers at the Friends of the Library luncheon here in town, spend an evening with the lawyers and spouses from my husband’s new firm at the Christmas party, watch my niece perform the lead in a Christmas musical at school, travel to my son’s basketball game, get my two high schoolers and my husband off on a mission trip to the Texas-Mexico border, and drive kids from our school to two days of local mission opportunities.
From there, my calendar is blessedly empty—except for the orthodontist appointment where both my boys will get their braces! We plan to bake and watch Christmas movies and play games and look at Christmas lights. And I intend to cherish every minute of it.
This is the week of Christmas frenzy before things settle a little into what I hope will be a fun, yet restful, family Christmas. I realize we haven’t many left like this. This year and next, then my daughter will be in college and I know how quickly things can change! My first Christmas after high school, I had a serious boyfriend. By the second Christmas in college, he was my fiancé. By the third Christmas, I was married. So I take nothing for granted.
So this week I will help host a table of fellow writers at the Friends of the Library luncheon here in town, spend an evening with the lawyers and spouses from my husband’s new firm at the Christmas party, watch my niece perform the lead in a Christmas musical at school, travel to my son’s basketball game, get my two high schoolers and my husband off on a mission trip to the Texas-Mexico border, and drive kids from our school to two days of local mission opportunities.
From there, my calendar is blessedly empty—except for the orthodontist appointment where both my boys will get their braces! We plan to bake and watch Christmas movies and play games and look at Christmas lights. And I intend to cherish every minute of it.
12/06/2007
Freshman Year Football
This is the image I will remember from my son’s freshman year of football (he’s #32.) In our small school, all the football boys are on the varsity team, but, of course, some of the younger ones don’t play much, if at all.So I watched my son on the sidelines. What I saw was an encourager—both to those coming off the field and those standing on the sidelines, like himself. He often grabbed the water bottles to hand to the boys on the field during a timeout or when they came off the field for a short rest.
His penchant for encouragement and helpfulness earned him the respect of many of the older boys, including the one he stands next to, a senior affectionately known as “Big E.”
It’s been a hard season in some ways: my son loves to play, not watch, and that got frustrating at times, and this team was slated to repeat as state champions, but they lost last weekend in the semi-finals to a team they’d demolished only a few weeks before.
But what I’ll remember most from this season is this image—my son, skinny and not overly tall, standing out there with the big boys.
12/02/2007
A Serial Christmas Story
A couple of months ago, several authors of historical fiction, both published and unpublished, came together (via the Internet) with the idea of writing a serial Christmas story that reflected both their love of historical fiction set in Europe and their faith.
I’m so pleased to announce that the first installment of this story is up at http://www.homebychristmas.blogspot.com/. The installments, 13 in all, will post every other day from now until Christmas. On the in-between days, the bio of the author of the upcoming installment will be posted.
So click on over. I guarantee that after just a couple of posts, you’ll be hooked into the story set in late Victorian England. My part posts December 5.
Happy Christmas reading!
I’m so pleased to announce that the first installment of this story is up at http://www.homebychristmas.blogspot.com/. The installments, 13 in all, will post every other day from now until Christmas. On the in-between days, the bio of the author of the upcoming installment will be posted.
So click on over. I guarantee that after just a couple of posts, you’ll be hooked into the story set in late Victorian England. My part posts December 5.
Happy Christmas reading!
11/26/2007
Leaving No Evidence
We spent Friday raking leaves. Last fall, our first in this house, we gathered 22 bags full from the front yard alone! This year, my teenaged boys, who grew up without mature trees that dropped their leaves, reveled in the piles.
But 23 bags later, a mystery. Friday, the bags surrounded our already full trash cans (no trash pick up on Thanksgiving Day). No problem. Trash Day would arrive on Monday and all would be well. Then Saturday I glanced out the breakfast room window. I couldn’t place it at first. The trash spot in the alley looked so—normal. Trash cans filled with black bags, waiting to be carried away. Nothing else.
Nothing else.
No 23 bags of leaves. Vanished. Gone.
Did someone take them? They must have. But we didn’t notice unusual noise in the alley at any time—and it would take a little while to load 23 bags. How did they know they all held leaves? Did they come searching for such things specifically—or did they watch us frolicking in the bright autumn sunlight, the crisp air stinging our hands as we worked and laughed and played?
It’s kind of spooky, if you ask me. 23 bags of leaves. The mystery still gnaws at me, probably always will. I’ll never know what happened to those bags. I’m sure someone took them on purpose, for some reason. I’ll have to make something up and use it in a novel someday!
But 23 bags later, a mystery. Friday, the bags surrounded our already full trash cans (no trash pick up on Thanksgiving Day). No problem. Trash Day would arrive on Monday and all would be well. Then Saturday I glanced out the breakfast room window. I couldn’t place it at first. The trash spot in the alley looked so—normal. Trash cans filled with black bags, waiting to be carried away. Nothing else.
Nothing else.
No 23 bags of leaves. Vanished. Gone.
Did someone take them? They must have. But we didn’t notice unusual noise in the alley at any time—and it would take a little while to load 23 bags. How did they know they all held leaves? Did they come searching for such things specifically—or did they watch us frolicking in the bright autumn sunlight, the crisp air stinging our hands as we worked and laughed and played?
It’s kind of spooky, if you ask me. 23 bags of leaves. The mystery still gnaws at me, probably always will. I’ll never know what happened to those bags. I’m sure someone took them on purpose, for some reason. I’ll have to make something up and use it in a novel someday!
11/24/2007
Cold and Wet
It’s 38 degrees outside—and dropping. A drizzly mist is falling. It’s the perfect day to sit in front of the fire, drink hot chocolate, listen to Christmas music or watch Christmas movies and decorate the house. And I’m . . .
NOT!
Oh, no. Today we are driving two hours to a high school football playoff game! I’m gathering long underwear, hand warmers, scarves, hats, gloves, boots—anything that might ward off the wet-cold of the day. And I so hate being cold!
But when your kids are there, so are you. I’m sure it will be fun. Ok, maybe FUN is too strong of a word, but it will provide “remember whens” for years to come. So while you are cozy inside your house today, think of me in the freezing rain, cheering for my team. And try not to laugh too hard.
NOT!
Oh, no. Today we are driving two hours to a high school football playoff game! I’m gathering long underwear, hand warmers, scarves, hats, gloves, boots—anything that might ward off the wet-cold of the day. And I so hate being cold!
But when your kids are there, so are you. I’m sure it will be fun. Ok, maybe FUN is too strong of a word, but it will provide “remember whens” for years to come. So while you are cozy inside your house today, think of me in the freezing rain, cheering for my team. And try not to laugh too hard.
11/19/2007
A Glimpse of the Future
We went to my cousin’s wedding this weekend. I love weddings, as most women do. But until now I’ve sat in pews thinking wistfully of my own wedding day, of how young and idealistic we were, how the years that stretched out before us are quickly flying by.
This time, I had none of those thoughts. Instead, sitting next to my three teenagers, I realized how close I am to being mother of the bride or groom! I watched the parents, noticing their graciousness to their children and all the guests. I mentally took notes of service arrangements and reception ideas. Of course, all my husband could see was dollar signs!! (Thank goodness we only have one girl!)
But instead of depressing me, the thought encouraged me. One day in the not-too-distant future, my children will stand at the altar, young and wide-eyed, looking forward to the coming years with the one they love. The thought doesn’t sadden me, but it sobers me. It drives me again to my knees, praying that God will work in the hearts of each of my children so that they can bring into their marriages unselfish hearts toward their spouses and humble hearts toward the Lord.
This time, I had none of those thoughts. Instead, sitting next to my three teenagers, I realized how close I am to being mother of the bride or groom! I watched the parents, noticing their graciousness to their children and all the guests. I mentally took notes of service arrangements and reception ideas. Of course, all my husband could see was dollar signs!! (Thank goodness we only have one girl!)
But instead of depressing me, the thought encouraged me. One day in the not-too-distant future, my children will stand at the altar, young and wide-eyed, looking forward to the coming years with the one they love. The thought doesn’t sadden me, but it sobers me. It drives me again to my knees, praying that God will work in the hearts of each of my children so that they can bring into their marriages unselfish hearts toward their spouses and humble hearts toward the Lord.
11/11/2007
A Must-See: Bella
We saw an incredible movie this weekend. Bella is the story of a young woman who finds herself alone and pregnant and the man who risks his relationship with his brother to be her friend. It is a movie that celebrates life and love, family and friendship. It is real and emotionally powerful—and subtle.
Yes, subtle.
As I writer, I strive for this—to tell the story and let my audience connect the dots to discover the greater, overarching truths the story illustrates. The writer and director of this movie managed this superbly. They told a compelling story that drives home the sanctity of life without using any of the buzz words generally associated with such a theme.
But the subtlety of its theme isn’t the only reason I enjoyed this movie. Its excellence extended to every aspect of the film—the writing, the directing, the acting. Nothing second-rate or hokey about this film and frankly, you can’t say that about very many movies these days. Oh, and did I mention that there are no offensive scenes or language? Yet the feel of reality is all over this film. I assume it garnered the PG-13 rating because of the thematic elements.
This movie is the first offering from new production company Metanoia, whose mission statement declares they desire “to make movies that matter and have the potential to make a meaningful difference in people’s lives.” I’m already looking forward to seeing what they come up with next!
Yes, subtle.
As I writer, I strive for this—to tell the story and let my audience connect the dots to discover the greater, overarching truths the story illustrates. The writer and director of this movie managed this superbly. They told a compelling story that drives home the sanctity of life without using any of the buzz words generally associated with such a theme.
But the subtlety of its theme isn’t the only reason I enjoyed this movie. Its excellence extended to every aspect of the film—the writing, the directing, the acting. Nothing second-rate or hokey about this film and frankly, you can’t say that about very many movies these days. Oh, and did I mention that there are no offensive scenes or language? Yet the feel of reality is all over this film. I assume it garnered the PG-13 rating because of the thematic elements.
This movie is the first offering from new production company Metanoia, whose mission statement declares they desire “to make movies that matter and have the potential to make a meaningful difference in people’s lives.” I’m already looking forward to seeing what they come up with next!
11/08/2007
Creating is Messy
I was cleaning up the kitchen the other morning—yet again. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I can clean when I don’t have to cook, and even consider it the best end of the deal. But when my daughter cooks, she doesn’t give a thought to the mess she leaves behind. When she is finished, it looks like a Texas tornado has hit my kitchen.
So after piles of dishes, I was down to wiping the countertops (and the appliances, and the backsplash, and . . . you get the idea) and lamenting the mess that comes from her creations. As I swept crumbs into the trashcan, it hit me: creating is messy, whatever the medium. Painting. Sculpting. Cooking. Even writing. When I get in a writing frenzy of creation, papers and books are often strewn from room to room, linking them like beads on a necklace.
It helped, realizing that her mess is simply a by-product of her creative process. It makes it easier to clean up after her because I know how she feels. I understand the creative urge, the need to see in visible form what exists in your head and heart, the complete focus on the creation, the oblivion to everything else around you.
So cook on, my girl. I’m right behind you, soapy rag in hand.
So after piles of dishes, I was down to wiping the countertops (and the appliances, and the backsplash, and . . . you get the idea) and lamenting the mess that comes from her creations. As I swept crumbs into the trashcan, it hit me: creating is messy, whatever the medium. Painting. Sculpting. Cooking. Even writing. When I get in a writing frenzy of creation, papers and books are often strewn from room to room, linking them like beads on a necklace.
It helped, realizing that her mess is simply a by-product of her creative process. It makes it easier to clean up after her because I know how she feels. I understand the creative urge, the need to see in visible form what exists in your head and heart, the complete focus on the creation, the oblivion to everything else around you.
So cook on, my girl. I’m right behind you, soapy rag in hand.
11/05/2007
The Grocery Store Dilemma
I get lulled into complacency in the summer time. When I do my big monthly grocery shopping trip (stocking up on staples such as bread, cereal, and toiletries) I bring home bags piled high in the back of my car and then watch as they disappear up the stairs and into my kitchen. Sometimes I even have help unpacking the bags and putting the groceries away.
But once school starts I live with the inevitable dilemma: do I shop with the crowds on the weekends, when my kids are home to help unload, or do I shop in peace but carry all the bags myself. Every time I try one way, I swear the other is better. Today I shopped in peace, checked out in a reasonable amount of time, and then ended up making about ten trips up and down the stairs to the garage, arms sagging with bags. To top it off, I’ve had a nasty cold, so the effort quite wore me out! Then, after all that, I still had to unload the bags that now covered my kitchen table and the majority of my countertops.
I guess I should be grateful for the extra exercise, but I imagine the chocolate I ate to console myself canceled out any benefit from climbing the stairs. Oh, well. I guess it’s back to fighting the crowds. At least for next month.
But once school starts I live with the inevitable dilemma: do I shop with the crowds on the weekends, when my kids are home to help unload, or do I shop in peace but carry all the bags myself. Every time I try one way, I swear the other is better. Today I shopped in peace, checked out in a reasonable amount of time, and then ended up making about ten trips up and down the stairs to the garage, arms sagging with bags. To top it off, I’ve had a nasty cold, so the effort quite wore me out! Then, after all that, I still had to unload the bags that now covered my kitchen table and the majority of my countertops.
I guess I should be grateful for the extra exercise, but I imagine the chocolate I ate to console myself canceled out any benefit from climbing the stairs. Oh, well. I guess it’s back to fighting the crowds. At least for next month.
10/30/2007
Pumpkin Pie
I can’t remember when I started the tradition, but somewhere in the past, it began. October 31 is the day I make the first pumpkin pie of the season. It isn’t just any pumpkin pie, mind you. It’s my grandmother’s recipe—more nutmeggy, more creamy than a traditional pumpkin pie. It’s something I can actually make, something that turns out the way it is supposed to every time.
And my family loves it. The five of us can polish off a whole pie in nothing flat.
So the season begins. I will make one or two pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving, one or two for Christmas, and a few more here and there before Winter’s end. And all I know is I’d better keep to my exercise routine. Otherwise I’ll be round as a pumpkin by Spring!
And my family loves it. The five of us can polish off a whole pie in nothing flat.
So the season begins. I will make one or two pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving, one or two for Christmas, and a few more here and there before Winter’s end. And all I know is I’d better keep to my exercise routine. Otherwise I’ll be round as a pumpkin by Spring!
10/26/2007
Saying No
I’m usually a person to whom “no” comes easily.
“Can you be the team mom?” No.
“Can you sub for this teacher?” No.
“Can you head up this committee?” N—well . . .
I was asked this week to head up a committee in an organization/ministry I used to be very involved with. I have to admit, I was flattered. It stopped the No before it left my lips.
“I’ll think about it, pray about it,” I told the caller.
I hung up the phone in wonder. Someone had remembered me. They thought I could head up this very important committee. No meetings, mind you. Just email and a few phone calls to make some decisions. I can do this, I told myself. And maybe this is what God wants me to do. After all, they did call me.
Two days later, after prayers coupled with busy days, I laughed at my own ridiculousness. I can’t do it! I can’t add one more responsibility in my life right now. If I do, it will detract from the things God has clearly called me to already—-namely, to be a wife, a mother, and a writer.
It was nice to be thought of, to be asked. But I must return to my familiar refrain: I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to do that.
“Can you be the team mom?” No.
“Can you sub for this teacher?” No.
“Can you head up this committee?” N—well . . .
I was asked this week to head up a committee in an organization/ministry I used to be very involved with. I have to admit, I was flattered. It stopped the No before it left my lips.
“I’ll think about it, pray about it,” I told the caller.
I hung up the phone in wonder. Someone had remembered me. They thought I could head up this very important committee. No meetings, mind you. Just email and a few phone calls to make some decisions. I can do this, I told myself. And maybe this is what God wants me to do. After all, they did call me.
Two days later, after prayers coupled with busy days, I laughed at my own ridiculousness. I can’t do it! I can’t add one more responsibility in my life right now. If I do, it will detract from the things God has clearly called me to already—-namely, to be a wife, a mother, and a writer.
It was nice to be thought of, to be asked. But I must return to my familiar refrain: I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to do that.
10/23/2007
Ah, Fall
Fall is in the air, promising winter will come. I love the change from summer to winter, from winter to summer. It really isn’t about which season is my favorite, it’s about the fact that one will last for a while, we’ll wring every last drop from it, then it will fade into something different from what it was. So now I’m reveling in a return to jackets and crackling fires and the steam of a hot beverage warming my cold nose.
10/19/2007
Comfort Reading
Looking back at my calendar, I realize just how stressful my life has been since school began. Eight weeks and not one even remotely “normal” one among them! So it’s no wonder I’ve reverted to my “comfort books.” I picked up Little Town on the Prairie the other day. Now I’m on These Happy Golden Years. I think I’m up for an L.M. Montgomery binge next.
Even after reading Laura Ingalls Wilder so many times, I forget how much I enjoy her books. I pick up something new every time, because each time I read them, I’m at a different place in my life. (I don’t know exactly how many times I’ve read these books, but since I’ve had the set for over 30 years, my guess is at least 25 times each!)
This time I loved how Pa didn’t just notice Laura’s need for a bit of fun in her life of work and study (she was 14-15 then), he validated it by putting together the Friday night literary society meetings during the winter months. He wanted her to have fun in those precious years just before having to take on all the responsibility of a grown-up. And good thing he did! You have to wonder if Almanzo would have noticed her if the whole town hadn’t been together having such fun gatherings!
I always love, too, Mary and Laura’s discussion of the goodness of God and Laura’s observation that Mary knows His goodness in a very special way because of her blindness. And Ma’s advice, that I go back to time and time again, both in my own life and to pass along to my children. “You may be well prepared to teach school and still not be a schoolteacher,” Ma tells Laura, “but if you are not prepared, it’s certain that you won’t be.”
And two things I’ve pondered for the first time from this reading: what happened to the Boasts? What was their story before they met the Ingalls? What was there life like between their occasional appearances over the last two books? Also, was Eliza Jane still alive when these were published? Laura doesn’t pull any punches “cleaning up” her future sister-in-law’s shortcomings. Did Laura and Eliza Jane ever reconcile to the place where they could be civil to each other?
I’m sure you’ll be hearing more about my “comfort” reading in the upcoming weeks. In the meantime, search out those books that impacted you as a child and re-read them. I think you’ll be amazed and the different things you see in them as an adult.
Even after reading Laura Ingalls Wilder so many times, I forget how much I enjoy her books. I pick up something new every time, because each time I read them, I’m at a different place in my life. (I don’t know exactly how many times I’ve read these books, but since I’ve had the set for over 30 years, my guess is at least 25 times each!)
This time I loved how Pa didn’t just notice Laura’s need for a bit of fun in her life of work and study (she was 14-15 then), he validated it by putting together the Friday night literary society meetings during the winter months. He wanted her to have fun in those precious years just before having to take on all the responsibility of a grown-up. And good thing he did! You have to wonder if Almanzo would have noticed her if the whole town hadn’t been together having such fun gatherings!
I always love, too, Mary and Laura’s discussion of the goodness of God and Laura’s observation that Mary knows His goodness in a very special way because of her blindness. And Ma’s advice, that I go back to time and time again, both in my own life and to pass along to my children. “You may be well prepared to teach school and still not be a schoolteacher,” Ma tells Laura, “but if you are not prepared, it’s certain that you won’t be.”
And two things I’ve pondered for the first time from this reading: what happened to the Boasts? What was their story before they met the Ingalls? What was there life like between their occasional appearances over the last two books? Also, was Eliza Jane still alive when these were published? Laura doesn’t pull any punches “cleaning up” her future sister-in-law’s shortcomings. Did Laura and Eliza Jane ever reconcile to the place where they could be civil to each other?
I’m sure you’ll be hearing more about my “comfort” reading in the upcoming weeks. In the meantime, search out those books that impacted you as a child and re-read them. I think you’ll be amazed and the different things you see in them as an adult.
10/16/2007
Sandi Glahn
Today I’d like to introduce you to fellow writer Sandra Glahn.
Sandra Glahn, ThM, teaches in the media arts program at Dallas Theological Seminary, where she edits the award-winning magazine Kindred Spirit. The author of six books and co-author of seven others, she is pursuing a PhD in Aesthetic Studies (Arts and Humanities) at the University of Texas at Dallas . She recently released her first solo medical suspense novel, Informed Consent (Cook). She is the co-author of three other such novels, which include the Christy Award finalist, Lethal Harvest.
I recently read Sandi’s new release Informed Consent. While medical thrillers are not the genre I generally gravitate to, this story held my attention—so much so that I finished it in one day! But I’ll let Sandi tell you a little bit about the book.
What’s Informed Consent about?
Jeremy Cramer, the next Einstein of research, is a medical resident specializing in infectious diseases. While working on a way to revive water submersion victims, he makes surprising discoveries, while also living with massive guilt over incidental infections that occur (which he could have prevented). Even as his marriage teeters, his career continues to skyrocket. Then, with a few twists along the way, he finds everything he has fought for threatened by the most personal, most heart-wrenching, choices of all.
I love exploring bioethics, and this book allowed me to consider end-of-life issues, patient rights, a compassionate response to HIV-AIDS…lots of edutainment.
How did you come up with this story? Was there a specific 'what if' moment?
The story had a thousand or more “what if” moments. I’m pursuing a PhD in Aesthetic Studies, and I worked on the setting, characters, a lot of the plot, as well as my narrative voice during three novel-writing classes taught by a novelist who writes fiction reviews for Publishers Weekly. And I got some great feedback from fellow students who don’t believe in Christ about ways to address faith issues more naturally. I also took a Dante class, which influenced my choice to give my characters five of the seven deadly sins. (I’m saving the other two for a future work.)
But the elements in the plot designed to keep readers up at night came through a brainstorming session with medical doctor, William Cutrer, with whom I’ve coauthored three medical novels.
Who is your favorite character in the book and why?
Dr. Nate Barlow. He’s imperfect, but he cares so much for his patients. And he’s a good friend. He has every reason to be arrogant, but he’s oblivious to his own greatness.
So if you are looking for a fast-paced read with lots of gut-wrenching emotion, find a copy of Sandi’s Informed Consent.
10/13/2007
10-20-30: Where Was I When?
Ok, so this is a fun variation on the “tag” thing:
10-20-30. My friend Mary began it, my friend Carla Steward tagged me. So here goes. What were you doing 10, 20, 30 years ago?
Ten Years Ago: I was living in Dallas, still mourning my best friend’s move to Rowlett. I had a 3, 4, and 6 year old at home. After coming home from a weekend retreat that fall, my husband told me that if God wanted us to move to Rowlett, he was willing. A few weeks later, the lot NEXT DOOR to my best friend was released for sale. We bought it and began building our house. Writing was a latent dream. All my energy was spent figuring out how to deal with my children.
Twenty Years Ago: I married in June and moved to Dallas where my husband started law school at SMU. We were young and in love and loving the freedom of our own apartment two blocks from campus. I was finishing my undergraduate degree in history with the goal of writing Christian historical novels.
Thirty Years Ago: I was living in Ft. Worth. I switched schools that year, beginning fifth grade at a Christian school which required me to wear dresses every day! Yuck! I was skinny, wore big glasses and had just had my hair cut in a Dorothy Hamill wedge. I devoured books and had just discovered that I loved to write, too.
So, to further Mary’s experiment into how far into the blogosphere we can reach, I’m tagging a few friends:
Richard
Rachelle
Katy
Angie
Post your answers to 10-20-30 and link back to Mary’s blog or leave a comment and let her know how you came to participate.
10-20-30. My friend Mary began it, my friend Carla Steward tagged me. So here goes. What were you doing 10, 20, 30 years ago?
Ten Years Ago: I was living in Dallas, still mourning my best friend’s move to Rowlett. I had a 3, 4, and 6 year old at home. After coming home from a weekend retreat that fall, my husband told me that if God wanted us to move to Rowlett, he was willing. A few weeks later, the lot NEXT DOOR to my best friend was released for sale. We bought it and began building our house. Writing was a latent dream. All my energy was spent figuring out how to deal with my children.
Twenty Years Ago: I married in June and moved to Dallas where my husband started law school at SMU. We were young and in love and loving the freedom of our own apartment two blocks from campus. I was finishing my undergraduate degree in history with the goal of writing Christian historical novels.
Thirty Years Ago: I was living in Ft. Worth. I switched schools that year, beginning fifth grade at a Christian school which required me to wear dresses every day! Yuck! I was skinny, wore big glasses and had just had my hair cut in a Dorothy Hamill wedge. I devoured books and had just discovered that I loved to write, too.
So, to further Mary’s experiment into how far into the blogosphere we can reach, I’m tagging a few friends:
Richard
Rachelle
Katy
Angie
Post your answers to 10-20-30 and link back to Mary’s blog or leave a comment and let her know how you came to participate.
10/12/2007
Exercising My Non-Fiction Muscles
I finished and sent an 800-word non-fiction article last night. It is my first requested article from a query letter. (Let’s be clear here. NOT my first query letter!)
I’m not really a non-fiction girl, so this was definitely a challenge. My first draft came in at 1300 words! With the help of my critique group, I pared it down to 798 to met the requested length of 800 words. It felt so bare bones. (“Just the facts, ma’am,” as Joe Friday would say.) My example stories only received a few sentences instead of the paragraphs I had originally spun out.
But it was a good exercise, whether or not it gets accepted. I learned I CAN write non-fiction—at least I can when I have a good story idea and a request from an editor! I learned I CAN write sparingly but without losing the heart of the article. And I learned I CAN make time in my busy life to do what needs to be done.
I needed that encouragement in my writing life—even if this article never sees publication.
I’m not really a non-fiction girl, so this was definitely a challenge. My first draft came in at 1300 words! With the help of my critique group, I pared it down to 798 to met the requested length of 800 words. It felt so bare bones. (“Just the facts, ma’am,” as Joe Friday would say.) My example stories only received a few sentences instead of the paragraphs I had originally spun out.
But it was a good exercise, whether or not it gets accepted. I learned I CAN write non-fiction—at least I can when I have a good story idea and a request from an editor! I learned I CAN write sparingly but without losing the heart of the article. And I learned I CAN make time in my busy life to do what needs to be done.
I needed that encouragement in my writing life—even if this article never sees publication.
10/09/2007
How 'Bout Them Cowboys?
Or, Life Lessons I Learned from Monday Night Football. (If you didn’t watch or read about last night’s Cowboys v. Bills game, you might not understand the following.)
1.It isn’t over ‘til it’s over—how many times did I almost turn off the game because, in my mind, it was a lost cause. And yet it wasn’t over until the last second ticked off the clock. Fortunately, the players knew that even if I didn’t.
2.Mistakes can be overcome—mistake after excruciating, humiliating mistake Tony Romo ran back onto the field and continued to lead his team. He didn’t cower from the task. He didn’t let his past mistakes affect his ability to keep trying. Each new down was just that—a new down.
3.Encouraging teammates are invaluable—as Tony endured his mistakes, not one of his teammates was seen yelling at him, or he at them. Several players and coaches went out of their way to say an encouraging word. And Tony didn’t blame his mistakes on others’ blunders, either. Oh how often we miss in our lives the blessing of being an encouraging “teammate” to someone having a hard time.
4.It doesn’t matter what the commentators say—the three men in the booth spent the entire evening talking up the significance of this win, even calling it the biggest upset of the season. Minute after minute they extolled the virtues of the Buffalo Bills. But it didn’t change the score in the end.
5.Even when you do things right, sometimes you still “lose”—in spite of so many “right” things, Buffalo lost the game. Yes, by one point. But it still goes in the “loss” column. And yet they played very well for a young team trying to rebuild. Good performances don’t always lead to desired outcomes. That is true in all of life.
6.Established confidence comes through in dire situations—Nick Folk’s confidence survived knowing he was kicking the game winning field goal from the longest point of his career on national TV as a rookie—and he had to do it twice! It wasn’t this situation that gave him confidence; the situation revealed the confidence already built inside of him. Every event in our lives can be a stepping stone for future success.
Ok, so I love football. I love watching human drama played out in front of me in the form of a game. And I especially love it when my Cowboys WIN!
1.It isn’t over ‘til it’s over—how many times did I almost turn off the game because, in my mind, it was a lost cause. And yet it wasn’t over until the last second ticked off the clock. Fortunately, the players knew that even if I didn’t.
2.Mistakes can be overcome—mistake after excruciating, humiliating mistake Tony Romo ran back onto the field and continued to lead his team. He didn’t cower from the task. He didn’t let his past mistakes affect his ability to keep trying. Each new down was just that—a new down.
3.Encouraging teammates are invaluable—as Tony endured his mistakes, not one of his teammates was seen yelling at him, or he at them. Several players and coaches went out of their way to say an encouraging word. And Tony didn’t blame his mistakes on others’ blunders, either. Oh how often we miss in our lives the blessing of being an encouraging “teammate” to someone having a hard time.
4.It doesn’t matter what the commentators say—the three men in the booth spent the entire evening talking up the significance of this win, even calling it the biggest upset of the season. Minute after minute they extolled the virtues of the Buffalo Bills. But it didn’t change the score in the end.
5.Even when you do things right, sometimes you still “lose”—in spite of so many “right” things, Buffalo lost the game. Yes, by one point. But it still goes in the “loss” column. And yet they played very well for a young team trying to rebuild. Good performances don’t always lead to desired outcomes. That is true in all of life.
6.Established confidence comes through in dire situations—Nick Folk’s confidence survived knowing he was kicking the game winning field goal from the longest point of his career on national TV as a rookie—and he had to do it twice! It wasn’t this situation that gave him confidence; the situation revealed the confidence already built inside of him. Every event in our lives can be a stepping stone for future success.
Ok, so I love football. I love watching human drama played out in front of me in the form of a game. And I especially love it when my Cowboys WIN!
10/08/2007
Did They Really Mean That?
Don’t you just love public signs that don’t really mean what they first imply? I found this one yesterday at the Cotton Bowl, site of the annual UT-OU football game.
It’s even funnier when seen with the sign on the other side of the steps.
Seriously, we had a great time at the State Fair indulging in our annual fried food binge. We watched part of the Waffle House Waffle Eat-Off. Those people are insane! After 2 minutes some had already eaten 12 waffles! We watched a cooking demonstration by the Executive chef at the Mansion on Turtle Creek—and even got to sample the dish afterwards. And we marveled at a sand castle of the Dallas skyline.
It’s even funnier when seen with the sign on the other side of the steps.
Seriously, we had a great time at the State Fair indulging in our annual fried food binge. We watched part of the Waffle House Waffle Eat-Off. Those people are insane! After 2 minutes some had already eaten 12 waffles! We watched a cooking demonstration by the Executive chef at the Mansion on Turtle Creek—and even got to sample the dish afterwards. And we marveled at a sand castle of the Dallas skyline.
10/04/2007
The Lion King
I love theatre and movies—the visual creativity with which a story is told spurs me to expand my ideas of what words can do. We went to see The Lion King on stage last night. All I can say is WOW! I spent the evening with my mouth hanging open, marveling at the “out of the box” creativity required to bring the Disney animated film to stage in such a realistic way. The costuming and choreography are worth the price of admission!
I loved watching actors portray the emotions of a human being with the physical attributes of their animal characters. The music and scenery transported me to Africa to watch the story unfold. (I asked my daughter if it felt familiar to her. She said it made her want to get on a plane and go!) I even liked the plot expansions they did for the play—they weren’t contrived but actually brought a bit more logic and “believability” to the story.
When we left, I felt re-inspired, eager to try new ways of expression that will capture an audience just as the creators of The Lion King innovatively brought their story to life before my eyes.
I loved watching actors portray the emotions of a human being with the physical attributes of their animal characters. The music and scenery transported me to Africa to watch the story unfold. (I asked my daughter if it felt familiar to her. She said it made her want to get on a plane and go!) I even liked the plot expansions they did for the play—they weren’t contrived but actually brought a bit more logic and “believability” to the story.
When we left, I felt re-inspired, eager to try new ways of expression that will capture an audience just as the creators of The Lion King innovatively brought their story to life before my eyes.
10/02/2007
Competing at the State Fair
My sixteen-year-old daughter, who loves to cook and intends to pursue a culinary education after graduation, entered the State Fair of Texas Cheesecake Competition today. It was quite an interesting experience!
Cheesecakes were but one category of the entire “cheese” competition. We sat in the waiting area as judges tasted and wrote. We counted at least 15 cheesecakes. Hers went first. Not always a good thing in such a large field. But once we knew hers had been tasted, we relaxed and began to listen to the other contestants around us. Some of these people are hard core! I mean, they enter multiple competitions in the State Fair of Texas every year, many of them winning consistently. They all seemed to know each other, like a little sorority of which we were not a part. We listened, our eyes widening as they speculated on the winners of each category and of “Best in Show” for “Cheese.”
We said to one another that we shouldn’t get our hopes up. Honorable Mention would be a good thing. We plastered smiles on our faces and poised ourselves to clap for the winners.
“Third place in cheesecakes goes to . . .” The woman with the microphone faltered a bit. Then she announced my daughter’s name! Tears welled up in my eyes as the other women clapped for her and, I’m sure, wondered who she was. After all, this was her first ever competition! And she was quite a bit younger than all the other entrants.
We didn’t even hear the other names announced. We were too stunned, too excited. I know what it feels like to receive that kind of validation in the arena you feel God has gifted and called you to. It’s amazing.
So congratulations to my baby girl! I’m glad someone in this house knows how to cook!
9/29/2007
Homecoming Woes
There are things I hate about raising a girl. Date events are one of them. At a small school like ours, big events become REALLY big events. Everyone wants to be there. But what’s a girl to do when she doesn’t get asked? Especially if she doesn’t know many boys outside of that group and of those, several are in relationships?
I feel too deeply the hurt and humiliation of not having a date. My son, who is at the threshold of his first big event, has control of his own destiny. He asked a girl. She said yes. Even if she’d said no, he could have asked another one. Or not. It would have been his choice. My daughter, on the other hand, simply waits. And now most of the dates are taken. She is left wondering what to do, feeling left out of the big shebang. I remember all too well how it feels—and it hurts as badly as it did when I went through it myself. Except in my case, in a big high school, lots of people didn’t participate. In a high school of 40 or so students, getting left out is much harder.
I wish I could help her instead of just comfort her.
I feel too deeply the hurt and humiliation of not having a date. My son, who is at the threshold of his first big event, has control of his own destiny. He asked a girl. She said yes. Even if she’d said no, he could have asked another one. Or not. It would have been his choice. My daughter, on the other hand, simply waits. And now most of the dates are taken. She is left wondering what to do, feeling left out of the big shebang. I remember all too well how it feels—and it hurts as badly as it did when I went through it myself. Except in my case, in a big high school, lots of people didn’t participate. In a high school of 40 or so students, getting left out is much harder.
I wish I could help her instead of just comfort her.
9/25/2007
Productivity Problems
Tuesday was quite productive, writing wise. Why is that a problem? Because when I’m being productive, it’s hard to stop. But I have to stop. I have to engage with my family. It’s my number one priority in the evenings. But I don’t want to give up the momentum I’ve found. I worry that the next day something will interfere. And it usually does. My productivity comes to a screeching halt, and I’m back to square one!
Who knows, maybe tomorrow will be different.
Who knows, maybe tomorrow will be different.
9/23/2007
My ACFW Conference
Whew! I’m finally home—and home for a while!
But I had a great time at the ACFW Conference this weekend. Here are some things I enjoyed:
•Participating in the skit at the opening session. (I was Deb Raney. I’ll post a picture soon.)
•Making friends with lots of new people just for the sake of making friends! (I don’t think I exchanged business cards with ANYONE because I was too focused on them as a person, not a business contact!)
•A GREAT critique session with author Maureen Lang. She gave me some much needed encouragement and incentive to keep working on my current book.
•Overcoming a bit of my public speaking fears when I had to introduce the speaker in a large session.
•Spending down time with Mary DeMuth in our room at night processing the events of each day.
•Feeling comfortable in my “writer-skin,” feeling like I belonged, that I wasn’t an interloper, or a tag-along, that I didn’t have to justify labeling myself as a writer.
God met me there—not with contracts or requests for manuscripts, but with Himself. I met Him one-on-one in the worship times and in the prayer room and I met him in eyes and hearts of other writers.
It was very much worth every bit of money and every moment of time.
But I had a great time at the ACFW Conference this weekend. Here are some things I enjoyed:
•Participating in the skit at the opening session. (I was Deb Raney. I’ll post a picture soon.)
•Making friends with lots of new people just for the sake of making friends! (I don’t think I exchanged business cards with ANYONE because I was too focused on them as a person, not a business contact!)
•A GREAT critique session with author Maureen Lang. She gave me some much needed encouragement and incentive to keep working on my current book.
•Overcoming a bit of my public speaking fears when I had to introduce the speaker in a large session.
•Spending down time with Mary DeMuth in our room at night processing the events of each day.
•Feeling comfortable in my “writer-skin,” feeling like I belonged, that I wasn’t an interloper, or a tag-along, that I didn’t have to justify labeling myself as a writer.
God met me there—not with contracts or requests for manuscripts, but with Himself. I met Him one-on-one in the worship times and in the prayer room and I met him in eyes and hearts of other writers.
It was very much worth every bit of money and every moment of time.
9/19/2007
To ACFW Conference I Go!
Sorry I’ve been so sporadic. Besides having to do the quick-trip-turn-around, yesterday I completed my first freelance editing job! I’m so excited! But it meant packing yet one more thing into an already busy week.
The ACFW Conference starts tomorrow, but I’ll be there tonight practicing for the skit we’re doing at the opening session. Did y’all know I’m an actress? (Okay, so you’ve probably been reading between the lines of my blog posts and have realized I can be quite the Drama Queen!) I haven’t acted on the stage in years and I’m jazzed about getting to do it again.
That’s it. Gotta run. I’ll give a report on how the conference went sometime on Monday!
The ACFW Conference starts tomorrow, but I’ll be there tonight practicing for the skit we’re doing at the opening session. Did y’all know I’m an actress? (Okay, so you’ve probably been reading between the lines of my blog posts and have realized I can be quite the Drama Queen!) I haven’t acted on the stage in years and I’m jazzed about getting to do it again.
That’s it. Gotta run. I’ll give a report on how the conference went sometime on Monday!
9/14/2007
Frenzied Homecoming
Whew!
It’s harder than I thought to come home from a trip and get ready to leave again a week later. At least in my life it’s hard. The week home is filled with football games and getting cell phones fixed and leading Moms in Touch and driving a Meals on Wheels route and finishing and printing one sheets and. . . and . . . and!
But New York was great. We saw three musicals, ate at Bobby Flay’s restaurant, decided that Junior’s really does have the best cheesecake in New York, walked until our feet hurt, rode the subway, took lots of pictures, and generally enjoyed ourselves—while my poor husband worked! The Culinary Institute of America was so impressive. Like a real college—a great campus and dorms and lots of social activities. I could see her there. And riding the train to get there was a very fun experience, too.
Now my focus in on the ACFW Conference which begins on Thursday. No rest for the weary!
9/07/2007
Times Square, Here We Come!
It took me 33 years to get to New York City the first time. It was a great trip with my husband—one of the best at that point in our marriage—but I was still in a bad place in my spirit, still seeking the peace that had eluded me since our first baby had made her way into the world nine years earlier.
We returned this past February to celebrate my fortieth birthday. Our dream trip in so many ways. One to remember for a lifetime.
Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine we’d be going back just a scant six months later!
Yes, we are off to the city that never sleeps once again, this time with 16-year-old daughter in tow. My husband has business to do in the city, so while he works, she and I will explore not only the city, but visit the Culinary Institute of America, 2 hours north. Yikes! Our first college visit! I don’t even know what questions to ask at culinary school!
So it will be an adventure of a very different sort this time around. I’m excited to experience New York again with my daughter, for I know our time together is short. Two years from now she’ll be at a college (or culinary school), all on her own. It won’t ever be quite the same after that. Not that I’m bemoaning her leaving. I love my kids, but I’ve always looked forward to having some of my time back in order to chase my own dreams. But I’m learning to cherish these moments, for they are fleeting.
We fly out Saturday morning and return Wednesday afternoon, so if you think of us, please pray our time together will be special.
9/03/2007
Eureka! Part 2
I know you’ve waited through the weekend with bated breath for Part 2 of this post! Ha!
Anyway, here’s my new plan. I’m counting on y’all to help me stick to it!
1)One week per month: turn off my internal editor and just write as many words as possible on my WIP.
2)The rest of the month: edit what I’ve written, evaluating it in terms of plot, characterization, emotional impact, scene structure, writing style—the whole shebang.
It’s a hybrid of seat-of-the-pants, planned writing, and write/edit. Hopefully this will allow me to let the story flow and yet make sure it is on track before I’ve written an entire book. It will also give me times to submerge myself in the story (the free writing) without worrying that my life will fly to pieces (its only a week) as well as time to evaluate where it has taken me (editing process), which I can do in the midst of keeping up with all the details of life.
Most writers seem to be bent one way or the other, but as in so many other areas of my life, I’m torn between two opposite sides of my personality. I’m a planner—and yet I’m not. I’m spontaneous—and yet I’m not. It’s always been one of my issues with books and music and movies, too. I fall into categories that don’t usually overlap! In other words, I’m a little bit country—and a little bit rock-n-roll (and classical and Broadway tunes and praise and worship.)
So that’s it, my hybrid writing process. Only time will tell if it really makes a difference!
Anyway, here’s my new plan. I’m counting on y’all to help me stick to it!
1)One week per month: turn off my internal editor and just write as many words as possible on my WIP.
2)The rest of the month: edit what I’ve written, evaluating it in terms of plot, characterization, emotional impact, scene structure, writing style—the whole shebang.
It’s a hybrid of seat-of-the-pants, planned writing, and write/edit. Hopefully this will allow me to let the story flow and yet make sure it is on track before I’ve written an entire book. It will also give me times to submerge myself in the story (the free writing) without worrying that my life will fly to pieces (its only a week) as well as time to evaluate where it has taken me (editing process), which I can do in the midst of keeping up with all the details of life.
Most writers seem to be bent one way or the other, but as in so many other areas of my life, I’m torn between two opposite sides of my personality. I’m a planner—and yet I’m not. I’m spontaneous—and yet I’m not. It’s always been one of my issues with books and music and movies, too. I fall into categories that don’t usually overlap! In other words, I’m a little bit country—and a little bit rock-n-roll (and classical and Broadway tunes and praise and worship.)
So that’s it, my hybrid writing process. Only time will tell if it really makes a difference!
8/30/2007
Eureka!
I had a Eureka! moment this week. Actually, I’ve had a few of those in the past couple of weeks. Some have been mundane (like, Eureka! If I fill and run the dishwasher before I go to bed at night I’m less stressed the next morning.) Most have been writing related. And after seven years of consistent wrestling with my writing, it’s about time!
You see, six years ago this November, I actually finished a novel. Well, almost a novel. 50,000 words, to be exact. Until then, I’d never finished much of anything—only a few of the creative writing assignments for school, because, after all, they received a grade! Then began the arduous task of editing, of adding and subtracting to make the novel what it should be. Then I began and finished another one. Then another one. Each one I approached with a little more knowledge and a little different method to my madness. But each one fell short of the mark in some aspect.
What do to? I’ve spent the first eight months of this year asking myself and the Lord this question. My understanding of craft has grown greatly, but I still wasn’t able to grasp how best to accomplish my goals of getting the stories in my head down on the page. So I’ve grappled in fits and starts. And then I hit Eureka euphoria.
You see, I’ve been listening to and reading about how other authors budget their time and approach this monumental task of telling a story with compelling characters and a page turning plot over the course of 80,000 or 90,000 words. And slowly, slowly, I’ve been meshing them all into the plan that works for me. Finally, I think, I’ve hit upon the plan that fits my lifestyle and my temperament, that combines planned and organic elements.
What is this revelation that is revolutionizing and energizing my writing? Well, like any good author, I’ll leave you hanging until next time . . .
You see, six years ago this November, I actually finished a novel. Well, almost a novel. 50,000 words, to be exact. Until then, I’d never finished much of anything—only a few of the creative writing assignments for school, because, after all, they received a grade! Then began the arduous task of editing, of adding and subtracting to make the novel what it should be. Then I began and finished another one. Then another one. Each one I approached with a little more knowledge and a little different method to my madness. But each one fell short of the mark in some aspect.
What do to? I’ve spent the first eight months of this year asking myself and the Lord this question. My understanding of craft has grown greatly, but I still wasn’t able to grasp how best to accomplish my goals of getting the stories in my head down on the page. So I’ve grappled in fits and starts. And then I hit Eureka euphoria.
You see, I’ve been listening to and reading about how other authors budget their time and approach this monumental task of telling a story with compelling characters and a page turning plot over the course of 80,000 or 90,000 words. And slowly, slowly, I’ve been meshing them all into the plan that works for me. Finally, I think, I’ve hit upon the plan that fits my lifestyle and my temperament, that combines planned and organic elements.
What is this revelation that is revolutionizing and energizing my writing? Well, like any good author, I’ll leave you hanging until next time . . .
8/23/2007
You can buy an autographed copy of Mary DeMuth's insightful book, Authentic Parenting in a Post-Modern Cultureby clicking on the link.
It's been a very busy week for me, but the kids are off to school today (woohoo!) so I should be around more consistently starting Monday!
8/20/2007
A Recommended Parenting Book
I don’t read parenting books. At least that’s what I decided after my first child never followed the prescribed patterns (child does X, parent does Y, child’s behavior changes). So I find it quite humorous that God connected me with two very wonderful writers who write—you guessed it—parenting books!
Today I’d like to tell you about Mary DeMuth’s latest non-fiction title (she writes fiction, too). Authentic Parenting in a Postmodern Culture (Harvest House, 2007) is not your typical parenting book. Much like her first parenting book, Building the Christian Family You Never Had (Waterbrook, 2006), Authentic Parenting in a Postmodern Culture isn’t a prescriptive parenting book. Instead of giving formulaic answers to specific situations, Mary insightfully and scripturally encourages us as parents to shift our thinking about how we are preparing our children to face the changing world.
Mary first encourages parents to deepen their own walk with Jesus. Only with His wisdom and strength can we ever hope to guide each child into our ultimate goal for them: to know the Lord on their own. This involves being real with our children, allowing them to see our failings, hear our apologies, and witness our changes. It also involves seeing our children as valuable not only for who they are but for how God uses them to teach us more about Him and more about the life of faith.
But Mary goes beyond looking at ourselves as parents. She encourages us to understand that we are called to come alongside our tweens and teens, conversing and coaching through the ups and downs of life, so that they learn not only to grab hold of their own faith and live it out, but also learn patterns of life that will help them navigate a postmodern society which values things like relationship and communication. By using creative, everyday things, we can ground our children in the truth of the Word of God and nurture their souls, preparing them to do the work God has for them in this broken world.
I recommend this book for any parent out there, but especially for those in or entering the tween and teen years, where so much grappling with how to walk out a relationship with Christ is done.
Be sure to check out the other blogs participating on the Authentic Parenting Tour this week. For a complete listing of the blogs participating in the six week tour, visit here.
Ane Mulligan
A Peek at My Bookshelf
Candle Blog
Declaring His Marvelous Work
Generation NeXT Parenting
GraceReign
Holy Experience
Hopeful Happenings
In the Dailies
Leap of Faith
Lift My Noise
Llama Momma
sprightly
Soul Scents
Spaghettipie
The View from Here
Write On Edge
8/13/2007
Two Movies
In a quite unusual turn of events, we saw TWO movies at the theatre this weekend. The contrast between the two was worlds beyond their settings (modern day NYC and the 19th century English countyside.)
I wanted so much to like No Reservations. I wanted it to become one of my new favorites, alongside the likes of You’ve Got Mail and While You Were Sleeping. It sounded so appealing—two chefs, one orphaned child. But, alas, it was not to be. There was just so little emotional pull. I still don’t know if it was the screenplay or the acting, but whatever it was, it didn’t move me to care enough about the characters. In fact, the storyline was much like a movie I liked—Raising Helen—which had tons of emotion. Besides the lack of pulling me in, the two main characters’ budding relationship flowered much too early, and too easily.
No Reservations could learn a bit from Becoming Jane. Becoming Jane is a charming film about Jane Austen before classic literature spilled from her pen. There was emotion. There was romance. There was the heat of a look that sends chills to my toes—something two kissing faces and a closed door couldn’t do in No Reservations. I’m sure much of this story was fictionalized, but it was based on Jane’s experiences which, in turn, colored her fiction. It was fun to watch characters which resembled those in her books and wonder how close they were in real life to the characters we cherish even now. And the best part? Watching it with my willing husband—one of only 2 men in the theatre!!
I wanted so much to like No Reservations. I wanted it to become one of my new favorites, alongside the likes of You’ve Got Mail and While You Were Sleeping. It sounded so appealing—two chefs, one orphaned child. But, alas, it was not to be. There was just so little emotional pull. I still don’t know if it was the screenplay or the acting, but whatever it was, it didn’t move me to care enough about the characters. In fact, the storyline was much like a movie I liked—Raising Helen—which had tons of emotion. Besides the lack of pulling me in, the two main characters’ budding relationship flowered much too early, and too easily.
No Reservations could learn a bit from Becoming Jane. Becoming Jane is a charming film about Jane Austen before classic literature spilled from her pen. There was emotion. There was romance. There was the heat of a look that sends chills to my toes—something two kissing faces and a closed door couldn’t do in No Reservations. I’m sure much of this story was fictionalized, but it was based on Jane’s experiences which, in turn, colored her fiction. It was fun to watch characters which resembled those in her books and wonder how close they were in real life to the characters we cherish even now. And the best part? Watching it with my willing husband—one of only 2 men in the theatre!!
8/11/2007
Playing Editor
I’m playing editor these days. I’m trying to get my own first 25 pages polished to send in for a paid critique. I’m editing my friend Tamitha’s YA novel to send to an editor who asked to see it. And I’m editing my friend Mary's third novel, due soon at the publisher.
I enjoy editing. It makes me a better writer, and, in turn, a better editor! And in the case of editing other people’s work, I get to read some great stories in the process. I’m glad that the things I’ve learned about writing in the past 7 years can be put to use helping those on their first novel, like Tamitha, as well as veterans like Mary, with 5 published books under her belt and four more due at the publisher.
Whatever else the Lord has planned for my writing, I know this is one way I can be a blessing to the body of Christ and have a hand in getting His message out to those who need it.
I enjoy editing. It makes me a better writer, and, in turn, a better editor! And in the case of editing other people’s work, I get to read some great stories in the process. I’m glad that the things I’ve learned about writing in the past 7 years can be put to use helping those on their first novel, like Tamitha, as well as veterans like Mary, with 5 published books under her belt and four more due at the publisher.
Whatever else the Lord has planned for my writing, I know this is one way I can be a blessing to the body of Christ and have a hand in getting His message out to those who need it.
8/06/2007
And the Countdown Begins . . .
Hey y’all!
I’m trying to get my daughter to do a post or two about her trip, but pinning down a sixteen-year-old can be like trying to corral the wind!
Anyway, I’m gearing up for school to start. And the countdown begins. Only two and half weeks left! Woohoo! We still have several appointments to keep before then, football two-a-days begin today, and of course school supplies are yet to be bought, but I’m already thinking schedules and blocking out my writing time for the school year. I’m limiting my school involvement this year in order to find more time to write, but that’s okay since I no longer have any kids in the elementary grades!!!
I thrive on routine, so I’m chomping at the bit for it to begin again. Routine and a quiet house. I’ve almost forgotten what they feel like.
I’m trying to get my daughter to do a post or two about her trip, but pinning down a sixteen-year-old can be like trying to corral the wind!
Anyway, I’m gearing up for school to start. And the countdown begins. Only two and half weeks left! Woohoo! We still have several appointments to keep before then, football two-a-days begin today, and of course school supplies are yet to be bought, but I’m already thinking schedules and blocking out my writing time for the school year. I’m limiting my school involvement this year in order to find more time to write, but that’s okay since I no longer have any kids in the elementary grades!!!
I thrive on routine, so I’m chomping at the bit for it to begin again. Routine and a quiet house. I’ve almost forgotten what they feel like.
8/01/2007
Home
I’m home.
That phrase took on new meaning for me Monday night. We’d been to visit family on the east coast for 10 days. It was, in many ways, a good trip. We celebrated my husband’s grandmother’s 80th birthday (12 great-grandchildren were in attendance). We visited with aunts and uncles and cousins as well as parents, grandmothers, a sister and brother-in-law, a nephew and a five-week-old niece. We went to the beach, the boardwalk, played mini golf. The kids fished. My husband and I read a lot.
But it wasn’t paradise by any stretch of the imagination. Sleeping conditions were less than ideal both in terms of space, comfortable beds, and temperature. For us Texans used to summering the heat with blasts of the AC, no AC proved a challenge, especially in 95% humidity! I confess, it made me grumpy in the end. Add to that being at the beach (in the same house) with thirteen people, including the newborn, a three-year-old, and a 92-year-old grandmother, all of whom we had to feed three times a day and things got a bit hairy. I like my space and I didn’t get much of it.
By the time we hit Baltimore for 24 hours of just our family before catching our flight home, we were exhausted and I just wanted to be in my own house. A rain delay at the airport meant that didn’t happen until nearly midnight on Monday. But as I lay in my own bed, I felt the grin on my face and I thanked the Lord that I was home.
That’s when it hit me. The joy of coming home.
I confess that I’ve never been one that “longs” for heaven. In my younger years, as I dealt with issues of rejection and unworthiness, I feared heaven, feared I wouldn’t be let in or, worse yet, would be tossed out. Later, as I truly understood the love of God and accepted as truth how He sees me now, heaven didn’t scare me, but I didn’t necessarily long for it, either. Monday night I understood.
This life is like our trip—we live with people we love, enjoying them, enduring them, surviving often less-than-ideal conditions, reveling in those occasional rapturous moments, but all the while knowing we can (and must) endure because it is only a short time until we will be where we belong, in a place that feels familiar and safe and comfortable and peaceful.
So our family is at home now. All together again. I’m happy but tired and swamped with things to catch up on. And I have a new inkling of the satisfaction that will come when I finish my sojourn on this earth and take up my citizenship in my true home—heaven.
(At least when I get there I won’t have to deal with mounds of laundry or mail—or an empty pantry!)
That phrase took on new meaning for me Monday night. We’d been to visit family on the east coast for 10 days. It was, in many ways, a good trip. We celebrated my husband’s grandmother’s 80th birthday (12 great-grandchildren were in attendance). We visited with aunts and uncles and cousins as well as parents, grandmothers, a sister and brother-in-law, a nephew and a five-week-old niece. We went to the beach, the boardwalk, played mini golf. The kids fished. My husband and I read a lot.
But it wasn’t paradise by any stretch of the imagination. Sleeping conditions were less than ideal both in terms of space, comfortable beds, and temperature. For us Texans used to summering the heat with blasts of the AC, no AC proved a challenge, especially in 95% humidity! I confess, it made me grumpy in the end. Add to that being at the beach (in the same house) with thirteen people, including the newborn, a three-year-old, and a 92-year-old grandmother, all of whom we had to feed three times a day and things got a bit hairy. I like my space and I didn’t get much of it.
By the time we hit Baltimore for 24 hours of just our family before catching our flight home, we were exhausted and I just wanted to be in my own house. A rain delay at the airport meant that didn’t happen until nearly midnight on Monday. But as I lay in my own bed, I felt the grin on my face and I thanked the Lord that I was home.
That’s when it hit me. The joy of coming home.
I confess that I’ve never been one that “longs” for heaven. In my younger years, as I dealt with issues of rejection and unworthiness, I feared heaven, feared I wouldn’t be let in or, worse yet, would be tossed out. Later, as I truly understood the love of God and accepted as truth how He sees me now, heaven didn’t scare me, but I didn’t necessarily long for it, either. Monday night I understood.
This life is like our trip—we live with people we love, enjoying them, enduring them, surviving often less-than-ideal conditions, reveling in those occasional rapturous moments, but all the while knowing we can (and must) endure because it is only a short time until we will be where we belong, in a place that feels familiar and safe and comfortable and peaceful.
So our family is at home now. All together again. I’m happy but tired and swamped with things to catch up on. And I have a new inkling of the satisfaction that will come when I finish my sojourn on this earth and take up my citizenship in my true home—heaven.
(At least when I get there I won’t have to deal with mounds of laundry or mail—or an empty pantry!)
7/20/2007
She's Home!!
My daughter is home from Ghana with incredible stories to tell--and I'm sure those we're just the tip of the iceberg! I can't wait to hear more in the coming days. Thanks for praying!
Tagged for Reader and Writer Questions
My friend Richard tagged me on this writing-related questionnaire, so here goes:
1. What's the one book or writing project you haven't yet written but still hope to?
A novel loosely based on my grandmother’s experience (as a child) of the 1917 Influenza pandemic.
2. If you had one entire day in which to do nothing but read, what book would you start with?
Hmm. My “to read” bookshelf is full of fun and eclectic authors like Maeve Binchy, Lisa Samson, Susan Meissner, John Le Carre, Alexander McCall Smith, Daphne Du Maurier, Anne Perry, and others. And of course there are the classics that I love and the ones I still want to read. And a slew of YA books I would re-read and others I’d like to experience. And then there are the new titles I’m waiting for from some of my favorite authors. So to answer the question: it would depend on my mood for that day!
3. What was your first writing "instrument" (besides pen and paper)?
I went straight from paper and pen to a computer. My short typewriter phase only produced papers for my college classes.
4. What's your best guess as to how many books you read in a month?
I know this, because I keep a list! The average for a year is 5 a month. The most has been something like 10, usually in the summer.
5. What's your favorite writing "machine" you've ever owned?
I’m not sure I’ve had a “favorite.” All of my computers have been adequately functional.
6. Think historical fiction: what's your favorite time period in which to read? (And if you don't read historical fiction--shame on you.)
I never have just one! I love many of the “war” eras—Revolutionary, Civil, WWI, WWII. I also enjoy Regency and Victorian.
7. What's the one book you remember most clearly from your youth (childhood or teens)?
I hate these “one book” questions! My answer is the whole Little House on the Prairie set. I think I’ve read through them upwards of twenty times—and still re-read them every couple of years!
So now you know a little more about me as a reader and a writer. I’m supposed to tag other bloggers now, so Tina, Robin, and Heather, let’s hear your answers!
1. What's the one book or writing project you haven't yet written but still hope to?
A novel loosely based on my grandmother’s experience (as a child) of the 1917 Influenza pandemic.
2. If you had one entire day in which to do nothing but read, what book would you start with?
Hmm. My “to read” bookshelf is full of fun and eclectic authors like Maeve Binchy, Lisa Samson, Susan Meissner, John Le Carre, Alexander McCall Smith, Daphne Du Maurier, Anne Perry, and others. And of course there are the classics that I love and the ones I still want to read. And a slew of YA books I would re-read and others I’d like to experience. And then there are the new titles I’m waiting for from some of my favorite authors. So to answer the question: it would depend on my mood for that day!
3. What was your first writing "instrument" (besides pen and paper)?
I went straight from paper and pen to a computer. My short typewriter phase only produced papers for my college classes.
4. What's your best guess as to how many books you read in a month?
I know this, because I keep a list! The average for a year is 5 a month. The most has been something like 10, usually in the summer.
5. What's your favorite writing "machine" you've ever owned?
I’m not sure I’ve had a “favorite.” All of my computers have been adequately functional.
6. Think historical fiction: what's your favorite time period in which to read? (And if you don't read historical fiction--shame on you.)
I never have just one! I love many of the “war” eras—Revolutionary, Civil, WWI, WWII. I also enjoy Regency and Victorian.
7. What's the one book you remember most clearly from your youth (childhood or teens)?
I hate these “one book” questions! My answer is the whole Little House on the Prairie set. I think I’ve read through them upwards of twenty times—and still re-read them every couple of years!
So now you know a little more about me as a reader and a writer. I’m supposed to tag other bloggers now, so Tina, Robin, and Heather, let’s hear your answers!
7/16/2007
Sporatic Summer
I haven’t fallen off the face of the earth. Instead, I’ve taken two boys for their physicals and back and forth to football practices and the golf course. I’ve attended parties at friends’ houses, meet another friend for lunch, had some meetings at my kids’ school, celebrated both my sisters’ birthdays, attended two monthly critique groups and spent about five hours on the phone with the new mail order pharmacy company trying to get my prescription refills (which still aren’t here but are promised for tomorrow!)
A little writing has been done in between times. And my boys and I have almost finished our 1000 piece puzzle for the summer.
My daughter comes home on Thursday. (I’ve missed her so much!) We leave Saturday for a visit with my in-laws—meeting our brand-new niece, celebrating my husband’s grandmother’s eightieth birthday, and hanging out at the beach with my sister-in-law’s family for a few days.
Needless to say, my blogging will be sporadic until August. Ah, but the routine of the school year is close at hand!
A little writing has been done in between times. And my boys and I have almost finished our 1000 piece puzzle for the summer.
My daughter comes home on Thursday. (I’ve missed her so much!) We leave Saturday for a visit with my in-laws—meeting our brand-new niece, celebrating my husband’s grandmother’s eightieth birthday, and hanging out at the beach with my sister-in-law’s family for a few days.
Needless to say, my blogging will be sporadic until August. Ah, but the routine of the school year is close at hand!
7/10/2007
A Tidbit from Ghana
Last year, one of the most life-changing events my daughter experienced on her trip to Ghana was participating in passing out Operation Christmas Child boxes. It was a secret desire of her heart, one only the Lord could have orchestrated. It was the highlight of her trip—and maybe her life to that point.
In an update email from this year’s trip, I learned that an 8 x 10 picture of her passing out the boxes hangs outside the office of the director of World Vision in this region of Ghana. Wow! What an incredible gift to her! To have such an experience that you have treasured in your heart and then to discover that it meant enough to others, too, to warrant their constant remembrance of you in a picture must have been a bit overwhelming. And it must have been, again, a confirmation of God’s love for her and His pleasure at her service in His name.
In an update email from this year’s trip, I learned that an 8 x 10 picture of her passing out the boxes hangs outside the office of the director of World Vision in this region of Ghana. Wow! What an incredible gift to her! To have such an experience that you have treasured in your heart and then to discover that it meant enough to others, too, to warrant their constant remembrance of you in a picture must have been a bit overwhelming. And it must have been, again, a confirmation of God’s love for her and His pleasure at her service in His name.
7/09/2007
Looking forward
I have to admit, I’m jealous. I’m reading all these fun blog posts of people who are at ICRS (International Christian Retail Show) this week. It’s like looking through the glass at a party all your friends were invited to and you weren’t.
Now, granted, I have no reason to go—I have no book published or contracted. And I know that only a couple of said people are really my friends—the majority I know of or read their blogs or their books or both.
Still, it sounds fun. And I hate to be left out of fun, especially when it includes books and writerly people.
Maybe someday.
For now, I’ll just anticipate all the fun I’ll have with old writer friends and new at the ACFW conference in September.
Now, granted, I have no reason to go—I have no book published or contracted. And I know that only a couple of said people are really my friends—the majority I know of or read their blogs or their books or both.
Still, it sounds fun. And I hate to be left out of fun, especially when it includes books and writerly people.
Maybe someday.
For now, I’ll just anticipate all the fun I’ll have with old writer friends and new at the ACFW conference in September.
7/05/2007
Off to Ghana
My sixteen-year-old daughter leaves for Ghana, West Africa today. (She’s on the end of the front row, in the green shorts.) This will be her second trip. She is traveling with a group mostly from her school—four students (all will be juniors next year) and four adults. They will be gone from July 5-July 19.
If the Lord brings her to mind over the next couple of weeks, would you pray for her and the team she is with? They will be ministering in villages of an unreached people group and spending much of their time with the children of those villages. Please pray for seeds to be sown on good soil. They will also get to see the progress being made on a village church building that our school has raised the money to build.
This was a life-changing trip for her last year and I expect it will be so again. I’ll give you some highlights when she gets back.
If the Lord brings her to mind over the next couple of weeks, would you pray for her and the team she is with? They will be ministering in villages of an unreached people group and spending much of their time with the children of those villages. Please pray for seeds to be sown on good soil. They will also get to see the progress being made on a village church building that our school has raised the money to build.
This was a life-changing trip for her last year and I expect it will be so again. I’ll give you some highlights when she gets back.
7/03/2007
Rain, Rain Go Away
It’s almost sacrilegious to say this in Texas after the past two years of horrendous drought conditions, but I’m going to say it anyway:
I’m sick of rain!
Almost 11 inches in the month of July. Yesterday alone we had 3 inches in less than an hour, according to my parents’ rain gauge. I’m tired of gray, humid days. I’m tired of the kids being in the house all day. I’m tired of everything being wet, of our yard at jungle levels.
On occasion we see the sun, but it does little more than create a steam bath atmosphere. I never realized how much I took the sun in summer for granted, how much I depended on it for that happy summer feeling.
There is an upside, though. The temperature has rarely reached 90, let alone the customary 100s, so the electric bill has been a blessed bright spot (every pun intended!)
If you are in a rain-soaked state, I hope you dry out soon.
If you are in a place where you pray daily for rain to fall—-be careful what you pray for!
I’m sick of rain!
Almost 11 inches in the month of July. Yesterday alone we had 3 inches in less than an hour, according to my parents’ rain gauge. I’m tired of gray, humid days. I’m tired of the kids being in the house all day. I’m tired of everything being wet, of our yard at jungle levels.
On occasion we see the sun, but it does little more than create a steam bath atmosphere. I never realized how much I took the sun in summer for granted, how much I depended on it for that happy summer feeling.
There is an upside, though. The temperature has rarely reached 90, let alone the customary 100s, so the electric bill has been a blessed bright spot (every pun intended!)
If you are in a rain-soaked state, I hope you dry out soon.
If you are in a place where you pray daily for rain to fall—-be careful what you pray for!
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