What's Coming Up?

Um, so yeah, I'm excited.  And maybe a little overwhelmed.

God has been revealing these little dreams, this next part of my life, and some of them are starting.  I'm going to leave out the whole story and share highlights (but I'll spill more in the comments to those who want it *cough*).

  

Next month, my last college classes are over.

And then what comes next?  I spent time seeking Jesus, searching for His way in my life.  And slowly, He answered.

Okay, rabbit trail here.  God literally speaks to us.  Did you realize that?  I didn't for a long time, until my brother shared how he asked God a question, and He actually answered it.  Me, being slightly jealous, thought I'd do the same.  And I did.

When we ask and truly seek His answers, God speaks.  Maybe not loudly or obviously sometimes, but when we seek Him with all our heart, He promises to be found (Jeremiah 29:13).

If you're in that place, just ask.  Just seek Him.  His answers blow me away.

Back to the post.  *straightens*

A year and a half ago, God gave me a story.  In the summer, I wrote it, titled The Torch Keepers, and, since then, have been working on the sequel.

And now it's time for final polishing, designing, and publishing!

I'm going to be self-publishing The Torch Keepers this summer!

I'm currently working with an excellent graphic designer to finalize the cover, and - very soon - will be sharing a mock cover she put together before we announce the official cover release!

And, also, I'll be contacting a handful of close friends as my last beta readers before I work on interior design so I can begin the publishing process!  And then comes the fun things.  Sneak peaks.  Character profiles.  The final synopsis and cover and release days!

  

So where do you come in?

First, pray please?  When the Lord guided me towards self-publishing, I nearly screamed with excitement, but it also comes with a ton of work.  And He has been bringing me the most amazing people to aid and guide me.  But continued prayer for peace, for me to seek the Lord, to create the book He wants written.

Second, I'd love help!  If you're a graphic designer, editor, reader, anyone, I want you to be a part of this.  Slip me an email, and I'd be thrilled to see how you can help.  Seriously.  I can't do this on my own.

And also, diving into self-publishing again means I'm revamping my blog.  There's a new design up, and some other things currently under work.

Dear friend, you have been such an encouragement to me.  God has huge plans for your life.  I'm slowly starting to see Him piece things together for my future, and this adventure's going to be crazy.  I can't do it.

But He can.  And that's all that matters.

So hello, February and all these months are going to bring!  I'm going to be self-publishing a book that God put on my heart.  Where is He bringing you?

(ps)  And stay warm these days.  I'm looking at these pictures I took in Florida and missing that.  But this snow is awesome and inspiring to my author brain.  =)

   

...Being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ.

- Philippians 1:6

~♥~

We Need to Stop Making Things Complicated

Every week, I flit around and dust the windows.  It turns out that my mom is addicted to windows, so there are a lot.  But I'm addicted too.  I savor slipping to the glass and entering a new world.  Seeing the outside, the grey of winter, the way crisp grass catches the rain.

But when I'm dusting, sometimes I don't see that.  One particular windowsill is cluttered.  A dozen plants cling to the tiny frame, poking my fingers and hiding the dust under little pots.  I try to brush off the window, but the blinds are in the way.  From top to bottom, I have to dust every one.  And then sometimes there are more - hand-drawn pictures leaning against the glass, or smudges from dirt, or ladybugs that escaped the outside cold.

As I work, I forget about the transcendence of the window, and I see all the stuff in the way.  The smudges.  The clutter.

Last night, I realized something.  I do the exact same thing to Jesus.

Religion is complicated.

Honestly, sometimes it disgusts me.  All the wrong ideas of "do this" and "don't do that" are confusing.  When I read theology and dig deep into the complex structures, I often end up looking at the window blinds and missing the beauty of the window.

The blinds have a purpose.  They enhance the window, protect it, keep it cleaner.  But sometimes I just grab that little, dangling string and pull them up, out of the way.

I need to do the same thing with my walk with Jesus.  I get confused, discouraged.  All my emotions mix with things I don't understand, and I have this clutter in my life I can't escape from.  It's like I'm focusing on the tiny plants on the windowsill.  I see the cactus' spiny sides.  I touch them.  It hurts.  I bleed.

And I need to take a break, shove up those blinds, push the plants away, and just see the window.

Jesus.

That's what Christianity is.  Just Jesus.  Just loving Him, drawing close to Him, letting Him define my life.

I get consumed by what I do for Him.  And yet He wants to be my Best Friend, for me to draw near, to live loving Him.

We need to stop making things complicated.

I don't have some strong theological argument or persuasion, just this little spark that sometimes is stomped away by distraction's feet.  I want Jesus.  I love Him.  And that's enough for me.

Go study harder parts of the Bible.  Read those church fathers who write with long words that aren't in the dictionary anymore.  Dig deep, learn to defend your faith, know the ins and outs of what you believe.

But when the day ends, remember that it's not complicated.  If you're like me, stop making it confusing.

Find a psalm, read it, and find Jesus in it.

What I need sometimes isn't some elaborate sermon.  Instead, I read one verse, and it rings so true.

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.

- Psalm 23:1

My shepherd.  He knows what I need, how I fear, and lifts me in His arms to protect me.

Please don't make things complicated.  Just seek Jesus.  Seek Him through your ministry, through your Bible reading, through your prayer, through washing the dishes, through reading a book.  Don't let the clutter block you from seeing through the glass where Jesus defines your life.

Start with a psalm, and read it to find Jesus, not to read the story.

Because you're so, so loved.  And He wants to be your Best Friend.

   

He restores my soul;
He leads me in the paths of righteousness
For His name's sake.

- Psalm 23:3

~♥~

This is Why You Fight || a short story

    

Those arching doors spread above you as if you’re entering a palace, but it’s not. Instead, they swallow you up, and you’re lost. 

With a sweep of air, the mall doors close. Your feet find stone, smooth and spreading so far it disappears. But you don’t really look that far anyway. Instead you see a dozen other doors, all opening from this passage. And inside them are lights flashing, smells bursting, noise rustling. 

Children run by, screaming. They dart into one of the stores and are hidden behind rows of clothes and shoes and purses.

There are a hundred other people in the mall, just like you. But none of them see. They walk and talk and point and are consumed by the noise and lights. In their eyes, you see reflections of glitter as they carry purses and raise their painted faces. 

As you walk through the hall, they brush your shoulder. Someone runs past you and darts to keep from tripping. They don’t see you though. All those eyes are turned downward when your gaze meets their face. They rush into stores and hide in dressing rooms. They spend money and go on all the rides. And then they grab a meal and leave, never really opening their eyes to what’s around them. 

But you do. 

You see them. You see that woman with sunken cheeks who tries to hide it by makeup. She carries a bag on each arm and eases herself onto the escalator. When she rises, she only holds onto the bag and stares straight ahead. 

And you see that man, the way he brushes a hand through his hair and eats from a steaming platter. But his face is turned towards the merry-go-round where children grasp onto silvery poles and giggle on the hard horses that turn for the thousandth time. You wonder what he thinks as he sees them. If he remembers those days when he was allowed to play, to dream. 

Or that couple who laughs as they push their baby in a stroller. They run through all the mall's shops and eat all the food and see all the lights. But when they pause, those smiles fade. The façade slips. And you see the lines in their forehead. The way the woman turns her face from her husband’s. His shoulders falling. Her lips tightening. 

They all have stories. You try to see them, wonder what their life truly holds. The sunken cheeks—do they tell tales of long nights by a hospital bed, begging for someone to give a different answer? Or the eyes watching the merry-go-round spin—do they remember a time when another child laughed and played before he grew old and left home? The hesitating smiles—behind closed doors, do they turn to tears? 

But no one sees them. No one knows. And even if they did, no one would care. 

You do. 

It builds in you like a volcano. A wildfire burns in your chest, and you want to run, to shout, to scream. To tell them that there’s hope. That they have a purpose. That they are loved. 

Because if you don’t, will they never know? What if you’re the only person that can tell them? 

But your feet clasp onto the hard ground. In a crowd of a thousand, you are one small voice. On a beach of sand, you are one grain trying to shove the waves away. 

Shoulders brush yours. Eyes glance past you. Voices dance around you. 

But they never know you’re there. When you slip out of those arching doors, they don’t know. Their lives go on, living in those flashing lights until they too must slip out of the make-believe world they think is real. 

And then they feel it. 

The cold. The shadows of a night where no stars shine. Leaving behind the smells and tastes to return to the real world where life is hard, and pain is real. 

When that happens, will they remember to hope? 

You trudge through the grime on the sidewalks and step onto the road.  There are puddles lining the cement, leaves littering the ground.  Your feet get wet as you find your car. Ice has settled on the windshield, or maybe it’s just the dew that stiffens like the coldness inside you. 

Your hand finds the key, but it freezes your fingers. When you look back at the mall doors, you see through them to the noises and laughter and fake smiles. 

And the tears fall because you were there and couldn’t save them or tell them the truth. Even if you did, would they listen? 

A car’s light flash beside you. You stop. Open the door. Slip into the cold again. 

There’s someone there, a woman trying to open the car door with slipping gloves. Her hands stumble. She lets out her breath, leans against the car, and her hair slips into her eyes. 

You step forward and open the door for her. For a second, your eyes meet, and they really see. 

She nods, smiles. That time, it isn’t fake. 

And then you part. She drives through the darkness; you slip back into the car. As the key turns, you stop and remember. 

You are one grain on a shore of a billion, and you can’t stop the waves from breaking. But maybe, in that moment, you helped one grain of sand escape just a step further away. 

Even though the lights will flash and blind so many, maybe you can love just one. Perhaps a hug or one small word could bring the hope that one aching soul needs. 

The car turns off. You enter the cold and run.

Run through the puddles.  Run towards those arching doors. You let them swallow you up. Even with those empty hands, you face the enemy and fight because nothing can stop you, and you have a purpose bigger than those lights and empty faces. 

It’s not because of who you are. A grain of sand can’t fight the coming storm. But you hear this voice calling you to something bigger, something grander than what the world says you can do. 

I am with you.

So you fight.

~♥~

Say "Goodbye" to Welcome "Hello"

     

Happy New Year, dear friends!

I wish I could sit down with you right now and hear your story.  Share life.  I wish you could tell me all about your New Year celebration, your goals, your dreams, the future you imagine God leading you into.

I wish we could share about 2018.  The hurt we felt.  The tears that fell.  The moments that pain eased away, and we rejoiced in celebrations and victories and joys!  The times we couldn't help but dance because we were just overwhelmed by God's grace!

If we were walking through the woods by my house as we looked back on the past year, I'd bring you to my favorite place.  Where the trees break to let a small creek flow between two smooth rocks, we'd sit and dangle our feet in the water.  Or, if it's a breezy, cold day, we might stand there, stomping our feet, silhouetted against the dormant rose bushes.

I'd share the victories and joys - friends becoming neighbors, welcoming a new baby into the family, making new friends at the Glory Writers retreat, a graduation, a relative healing from her cancer, writing The Torch Keepers with the Lord's guidance and seeing Him use it to win a contest, and those overwhelmingly beautiful times of worship.  Even the little things - those notes in the mail, the challenges God helped me overcome, the changes in life.

But there were hard things too.  Long, mundane semesters of school.  Phone calls announcing someone on the verge between life and death.  Those dry times where I feel far from God.  The months of fighting cancer over with the gentle, last breath.  Tears.  More deaths.

If we were talking alone, I'd tell you that 2018 was beautiful and hard and tearful and victorious.  In it, I learned the beauty of peace, glory, love, surrender.  And I learned that no matter what, God. is. good.

As the New Year slips around, I'm looking back with so many emotions building up in my chest.  I won't forget the memories.  But I still have to say goodbye, like I did to those people who slipped from this earth into Heaven.

Yet it's okay.  Because without "goodbye" there would be no "hello."

   

I want to dance with Jesus into 2019.

To seek Him fully, love Him fully, trust Him fully.  I want Him to direct these goals and dreams that grow in my heart.

No matter what comes in 2019, I trust Him.  As I say goodbye to an old year and welcome a new one, I embrace the adventures to come.  The hard things.  The challenges.  The victories.

And even the tears.

Dear friend, if I took your hand in mine and lead you through our creek, we'd find ourselves surrounded on both sides by trees.  And then, after swinging on the vine that drapes across the water, the trees would distance.  A little clearing opens to our left.  Around it, there are these stones that peek at us like the edge of the mountain.

There's a log there.  I'd walk across it, trying to hold my balance.  When I got to the end without falling (obviously *cough*), I'd turn around and smile.

Friend, I love your dreams and hopes.  Your future is beautiful.  It might be stained with dirt or blood or tears, but it's beautiful if you let Jesus write your life story.

So dream away.  Scribble down the resolutions you hope to reach this next year.  But hold them lightly so Jesus can take those goals and erase the words, writing a more perfect story for you.

As we slip out of the clearing, I would lead you up the hill through ferns and moist leaves.  We'd come into my house, where a dozen people live in not-so-quietness.  The solitude would slip away as you prepared to leave.

I'd wave from our porch, saying goodbye like I'm saying to this old year.  If you never left and I never said goodbye, I couldn't say hello to welcome you again.

So goodbye, 2018.

And hello the new year with the dreams and hopes and memories to come.

Because we can't talk face to face right now, let's share in the comments.  What are your dreams for 2019?  Where did God take you in the last year, and where do you hope He takes you in the months to come?

Happy New Year, dear friend!

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, buy and sell, and make a profit”;  whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away.

- James 4:13-14

You also be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand.

- James 5:8

~♥~