Pull Through

I find myself talking to a woman who has suffered through chronic pain and fatigue for most of her life. She tells me all the ways she's adapted; mostly, she's learned to rest well and accept her limitations. This means she doesn't live the way others live. This means she lives with the acute reality that while others live very productive, fast, and high-capacity lives, she has the energy for maybe two or three good hours a day.

That's just how it is.

She doesn't push herself. She listens to her body and swims in a completely different current than all the rest of us. She doesn't push against the current; she leans back and lets God pull her through.

Sometimes, I think that's what our bodies are telling us, and we don't listen. We don't know how to lean back into the arms of God, rest well, and let Him pull us. We're too busy pushing through.

_____________________________________
Can you rest well this weekend?

Why the Wilderness?

My husband reminds me of Deuteronomy 8 this morning, in particular this part beginning in verse 2:

Remember how the Lord your God led you all the way in the wilderness these forty years, to humble and test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna,which neither you nor your ancestors had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.

I spend a few minutes this morning recalling all the ways God "caused me to hunger" in my life. I remember all those things that humbled me and forced me--out of real desperation--to cling to and depend upon the Lord because I had no where else to turn. I remember the wilderness of my own heart. I remember those years of wandering.

All these years later, I can thank God for those times of humbling and hungering. Does God want to teach us how to need Him? Out of that Great Mercy, he allows the wilderness of the heart so we turn back to the one who loves us and truly meets out needs.

___________________________
Can you look back and be thankful for hard times?    

Turkey Leftovers? Easy Turkey Pot Pie

I love easy and fast, so here you go: 

You get two ready-to-bake pie crusts from the grocery store and put one of the crusts in a pie pan. Mix two cups of chopped leftover turkey, a can of cream of chicken soup (or mushroom or celery), a bag of frozen mixed vegetables (or a can, or whatever leftover veggies are in your fridge), 1/4 cup milk, and a dash of salt and pepper. Mix well, and then fill the pie crust with your filling. Then top with the second crust.

Bake about 45 minutes on 350 degrees. Children love it!

Serve with sliced apples and a tossed salad. Yum!

___________________________________

What's your favorite leftover turkey recipe?
 

Lost on the Way

Today we walk to school with a little boy who has never seen the snow. He moved this year from Texas, and today is his very first day seeing, tasting, and touching snow.

Seeing the morning snow through his eyes fills us with wonder again. It's amazing to think about: fluffy flakes of white fall from the sky and cover the ground. You can eat it, roll around in it, shape it into balls, and slide across it.

We experience it again through him, and what seemed like a cold, dreary morning now becomes magical.

If fact, at one point, we lose him on the walk to school because he's playing in the snow. 

Living with flair certainly means recalling our joy and wonder. Maybe we'll get lost on the way today because we're too busy delighting in the snow.  

________________________________
Do you need to experience something through new eyes today?

Just Write and See What Happens

Today, I ask my students to describe their childhood backyard. It's a lesson on setting. I don't give any instruction other than to use as much sensory detail as possible. "Just write and see what happens. See what your brain does with this."

I'm fascinated by the results. Students write about things they don't expect: the way the grass felt on bare feet; the jagged edge of a fence; the sound of a mother calling them in for dinner; the slope of a landscape; the shimmer of a creek in the sunlight.

They write for five minutes, and then I ask them to interpret what they remember. Do the objects or the sensations have symbolic meaning to you now? Is there a reason why you remember what you do?

Writing down our memories of places helps us understand something about ourselves. We gain insight because of what we remember. I love just putting the pen to the page with no other instruction than to "Just write and see what happens."  I want to do this every day just to see what happens.

_________________________________
Do you ever begin writing just to see what your brain does?

My Two Favorite Games to Play with Young Children

My two favorite games to play with my children are Memory and Jenga. During the holidays, it relaxes us all to just sit and play games. After all the doing and going, I love sitting down in the living room--amid all the holiday decorations and smells of pine and baking things--and play games.

I used to detest game playing. I wanted to go be productive. But now, I just love laughing and relaxing to these two games in particular. I love how everybody shrieks when the Jenga tower topples, and I love how I always lose Memory because I don't pay attention! 

I'm learning.

_________________________________

Do you have favorite games to play with young children?

Catch

This morning I read a verse I don't remember reading ever in my life. Deuteronomy 33:27 offers this wonderful promise:

"The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms."

I try to imagine God's everlasting arms underneath me.

Even if I fall (or am falling), the everlasting arms are underneath me.

They will catch me.

_____________________________
I love that He catches me, don't you?

Downhills

It's arduous: We're driving up the mountain to go hiking, and my youngest tells us all how much she loves chugging uphill in the car.

"It's because the uphills mean the downhills later."

She knows it's a fast, twisty thrill ride downhill. The arduous task affords us all the ease and joy later.

There's something true in it all; the uphill battle rewards you with a thrill ride down. It's just how it works.

I consider all the hard things--the strenuous labor of life--that, if we just persevere on the uphills, we get the downhills later.

Keep on with the arduous. You'll crest soon and enjoy the downhill. 

________________________________
The downhills are coming!

Impressive

Wouldn't it be wonderful to stop trying to impress people all the time? Wouldn't the holidays be so easy if the motivation behind our behavior was genuine love and not a desire to impress?

Recently, my friend and I laughed about all the things we fear folks finding out about us. We carefully construct ourselves to manage everyone's opinions; we wear the right clothes that make us look thinner; we clean our homes so everyone delights in our organization; we boast of certain accomplishments so everyone thinks we are. . . perfect.

What if, instead, we just announced this: I'm afraid you will think I am fat, disorganized, or unaccomplished (or whatever it is you really fear people thinking about you). What if we just let people think the very worst and we stopped trying to impress? Maybe then we could really serve people over the holidays. We could think about them and not our images and reputations.

That would be impressive indeed!

_________________________
Happy Thanksgiving!

Strayed

Sometimes, characters in novels take on lives of their own. They do things that deviate from the originally storyline. It might be a small detail (the time of day, a food she eats, a piece of clothing she wears), but it ripples through the story.

Sometimes, this small change easily folds back into the story, and other times, I have to write entire chapters just to accommodate the detail. Whether it takes a sentence or thirty pages, eventually, the plot moves on as planned.

I find myself weaving the tale in new ways when something changes. Eventually all the characters end up where they're supposed to. There's a plot line they come back to, no matter how far they've strayed.

Writing novels teaches me so much about a life of faith. I love thinking of God as the Author of my life's story. It comforts me to think that God weaves all the details (and even the mistakes) right into the master narrative. Eventually He knows how to get me where I'm supposed to be. It might be in a minute or in thirty years, but I know for certain He "works all things together for good."

He's the only one who can. He wrote the story.

__________________________________
Did you ever make a mistake you felt like God couldn't use for good? I'm amazed that He can and does work it all out for good. 

Hardening

We're driving on the highway behind a huge concrete truck. The revolving drum on top the truck mixes the concrete even while on the road.

The concrete must be continually stirred or else it hardens and loses its workability. It hardens too fast and too soon. As the drum revolves, the right amount of water and other additives keep the concrete pourable till it reaches a construction site.

I think about that revolving drum. I think about the ways I want to keep moving--getting stirred up each year--so I don't set and harden in my heart. I want to invite new, essential additives in to keep me soft. If I'm toppling over and my life seems off-kilter, I'm going to think of it as my being stirred in a revolving drum. Otherwise, I'll harden. Otherwise, I can't be poured out in the ways God wants.

_________________________
New experiences and new challenges keep us soft and workable, don't you think?

Influence

Today I realize all the ways one might influence an environment.

In writing, an author influences the mood of a piece by using primarily sensory detail: sight, smell, sound, touch, and taste. Writers generate moods for their readers; they manipulate language to produce sad moods, happy moods, suspicious moods, romantic moods, or humorous moods (among others).

It occurs to me that when we enter a room, we too--like an author--can influence what people experience. What do folks experience when they spend time with us? What mood do we leave them with? It's worth thinking about. It's worth considering if we contribute to negativity and hopelessness or if we lift an environment with joy, peace, and expectant faith.

We do influence our environment. We are influencing our environment--right this moment--and I wonder what kind of influence we're having.

Can you imagine bending every situation toward the light? That's what I want to do.

_____________________
Have you seen the way one negative person can bring down a whole room?

Sooner

My shy daughter finally befriends a little girl she's crossed paths with for years but never had the courage to approach.

She finally invites the girl to play, and now, it feels like they've been best friends all this time.

When I'm tucking my daughter in for bed, she says, "Mom, I have a regret. I regret that I didn't ask her to play sooner."

I think about all the times we want to do something but don't out of fear or shyness. I think about how many months and years pass because we lack courage to approach that person, that project, or even that  new experience.

I'm glad we learned what it feels like to wish we'd done something sooner. Living with flair means we pray for courage--even when we're shy, even when we have fear--to approach someone or something when we want to.

______________________
Do you have a regret that you would have approached someone or something sooner?

"It's All About Tension": Writing and Living Advice

My amazing agent and I are working together to prepare a manuscript to submit to publishers. (It's a contemporary adult novel that you'll hear more about next month.) He says to me, "Always remember that tension is the lifeblood of the novel. You cannot resolve the tension too quickly."

In fact, he says, you want to "layer more and more tension" in this particular scene. We talk about deliberately delaying the resolution of certain problems. We talk about even greater subtexts of tension and conflict that drive the reader on.

It's all about tension.

It's always about tension. Essentially, we're talking about suspense. We're talking about emotional anxiety. We're talking about strained relationships. These things will resolve, but they can't resolve too soon.

All morning, I think about the beauty--and importance of--tension. I remember that God is writing a novel of my life. When things don't resolve quickly, it's because there's a chapter way ahead that makes a stunning plot twist, a gorgeous reconciliation, or a revelation that takes our breath away.

It's all about tension.

__________________________________
Don't you hate waiting for things to resolve?

It Changed Everything

Today, I read my students a single event memoir by Deidra Riggs. I'm asking them to choose a single event--a single moment of their lives--to narrate for a reader.

The memoir, "Better Than the Ballroom", takes just a few minutes to read. In this piece, Riggs transports us to an evening spent with her grandfather. A granddaughter takes a walk with her grandfather; it's a simple walk, but it means so much.

We talk about tiny moments. Can you remember a moment that changed everything? A conversation, a walk, a view of a landscape?

All day, I think about how these tiny moments can shape entire lives. Listening to students talk about "moments that changed everything" makes me deeply aware of my own interactions with folks. I also consider how much I want to be fully aware of the moments of my day--my conversations, my walks, my landscapes--because on this day, that moment might just change everything.

Finally, I recall those tiny moments in my own life that changed everything. Maybe it was finding a turtle as a child or skating on a frozen creek at midnight. Maybe it was reading the poetry of John Keats. Maybe it was eating coconut cake.

Maybe it was sitting down and writing the very first word.


_____________________________
Can you think of that moment? Have you considered writing about it?

Wait! Where?

This morning, my oldest daughter cries out to her sister, "I'll race you!"

"OK!" the youngest one says, and they're off! Suddenly, she stops and demands, "Wait! Where are we going, anyway?" She has her hands on her hips and her head cocked to one side.

I'm washing breakfast dishes, and I think of the day's schedule--the weight of demands, the crush of deadlines, the too-much-to-do of it all--and I stop and question: "Wait! Where am I going, anyway?"

I'm racing after. . .  What? Who? Why? 

It's the same feeling I had when someone told me about all the new technology I was supposed to use in my classroom. We were all in such a rush to adopt every new gadget and technique. We were racing to be the most sophisticated, and then it struck me that we had all the "how" and none of the "why" or "where are we going, anyway."

I'm stopping for a moment and reconsidering the rush of the day.  I don't need to run every race. I don't need to be in such a hurry. I need to pause and ask, "Where are we going, anyway?"

____________________________
Do you ever rush about and think you just need to stop?

A Most Extraordinary Piece of Art

An incredible artist, Ted Cantrell, sends my family a piece of his original artwork for our home. From the moment I remove this piece from its shipping box, I know I'm holding something extraordinary in my hands.

This Texan Artist once found an old tree that had grown up through a barbed wire fence on his grandfather's farm. He examines the dying tree with barbs running through it, and he sees something that we don't see. Taking discarded copper from a scrap metal yard, he shapes beautiful roses with barbed wire stems. He titles this piece, "Love Will Find a Way," and describes how it's about "beauty from ugliness" and "value from worthlessness."

Love Will Find a Way

We can't stop exploring this amazing creation. The Texan Artist knows that when a tree grows up against a barbed wire fence, it eventually incorporates it into itself.

I think about suffering--about all the painful barbs in life--and how we take it all in. It becomes part of us. We can't escape it. But I think about how under the hand of a skilled artist, this reality turns into something exquisite. All the parts we deem worthless suddenly become so beautiful.

Roses from the Scrap Yard

We talk about symbols, and my children and I see a wooden cross, a crown of thorns, and the beauty of Christ in the roses.

I see the strength of a tree that won't be stopped.

I see perseverance, joy, and beauty despite any obstacle. In fact, I see how the obstacle becomes our greatest meaning and our greatest raw material for beauty.

This is what God does. 


_____________________________
 Are you amazed with how an Artist can make some discarded thing so beautiful?

Gingersnap Tea and Almond Biscotti

Two days ago, I purchase mini almond biscotti for no reason at all.

You can't just eat biscotti, you have to dip it in tea (at least that's how I do it since I don't like coffee in the afternoon).  So if you have biscotti, you simply must have tea.

If you have tea, you must put on your little tea kettle to boil water.

If you put on your little tea kettle, you might as well pull out your good china tea cups and a little serving tray.

And if you do this, you might just start speaking in a British accent and insist to your family that it's tea time.

Soon, everyone might be dipping almond biscotti in gingersnap tea, and suddenly, it's a wonderful afternoon.

_____________________________
Are you an afternoon tea drinker?

The Interview Game

My youngest daughter tells me today that her friends at school never ask her anything about herself.

"I ask about them, but they don't ask about me," she explains.

"I know what you mean," I tell her. "Hardly anyone knows how to ask good questions of one another. We might need to learn how to do it."

So after school, I ask her and her friend all about it: "What kinds of questions do you like people to ask you?"

Her friend says, "I want people to ask me about what it's like to have brothers or what I'm thinking about my pets."

My daughter insists that she wants people to ask her about her fashion (of course!).

"You might tell your friends what you want them to ask you about since nobody seems to know."

I suddenly realize this is a great idea. Instead of stewing about how friends aren't asking enough about us, why don't we just tell them the kinds of things we love being asked about? Later, I hear my daughter ask her friend, "How many pets do you have, and what are their names?"

Her friend tells her and then turns to my daughter and says, "So what's your favorite style of clothing?" 

I think we're on to something. Telling people what you like to discuss could certainly help build friendships. (Don't ask me about weight loss, grading, or holiday shopping. Ask me about God, writing novels, teaching, and blogging.)

"It's like an interview game," I tell them. "And the first question is always, 'What do you want me to ask you about?'"

______________________________
What do you like people asking you about?

When She Steadies You

Today I'm roller skating with my oldest daughter, and I realize that for the first time in all these years, she's steadying me.

It's one of those moments when I think about parenting differently. I think about the relationship between mothers and their almost teenage daughters.

I flail my arms, grab on to her hand, and she steadies me.

_____________________________
Motherhood does indeed have its moments of pure wonder.

Read and Be Inspired: 8-Year-Old Dresses Up as Her Greatest Insecurity

My friend calls from Texas to update me on her life and children. She shares this incredible story and gives me permission to share it (and the photos) with you.

Her sweet daughter has had to wear hearing aids these past few years. This little girl doesn't want anybody talking about them; she hides her hearing aids with her long hair, and she just wishes everybody would ignore them.

For years, she hides them. 

But this year, she asks her dad to make her into a giant hearing aid for her Halloween costume. She asks him to cut out ear holes so she might point to her hearing aids and explain to everybody at school how they work, where the battery is, and where she hides the wires.

I repeat: A little girl dresses up as her greatest insecurity and essentially says to the world, "Ask me about this." 

Tears fill my eyes as I think about all of us parading around, showcasing our greatest insecurity. I think about walking around in freedom, coming out of hiding, and amplifying the thing we hate the most about ourselves in order to turn it into a beautiful thing.

I share the story with my college students, and they are moved and inspired. I ask them about their greatest insecurities. Would they do what this little girl did? Would anybody?

I'm amazed. Living with flair means we come out of hiding, show the world our greatest insecurity, and boldly say, "Ask me about this."

We'd be free. 

_______________________________________
What's your greatest insecurity? I think mine is my big tummy that I'm always trying to suck in! Maybe it's the pores on my nose, my coffee breath, or my awkward gait. Oh, I could go on!

So You Could See It Better

I leave my classroom today, and I see purple berries. In a simple moment of gratitude, I thank God for stark landscapes in late autumn that serve to showcase color I might have missed otherwise.

I might have missed these, but today, I couldn't possibly. All seems stark and bland on purpose; it might just serve to illuminate what you're really supposed to see.

________________________
I love berries in autumn! Do you have bright berries where you live?

Dirty Kitchens and Unmade Beds

Today, I write for three hours straight. I don't empty the dishwasher, make beds, or think about what I'm going to make for dinner.  

Something has to fall by the wayside to make room for art.

I remember Annie Dillard's wonderful quote about writing. She writes:

"Let the grass die. I let almost all of my indoor plants die from neglect while I was writing the book. There are all kinds of ways to live. You can take your choice. You can keep a tidy house, and when St. Peter asks you what you did with your life, you can say: I kept a tidy house. I made my own cheese balls." 

I think about dirty kitchens and unmade beds today. I don't want to come to the end of my life and say I didn't write what I was supposed to write because I kept a really clean house and made excellent cheese balls instead.

I think about cheese balls as I'm writing this very sentence with a sink full of breakfast dishes to clean!
______________________
Did you make time for creativity today?

 

 

What Gets Set in Motion

I love putting things in my crock pot, leaving for campus, and returning hours later to dinner. The crock pot performs this secret work all day--that secret ministry--while I go about my regular life. I set it in motion, and it continues all day long.

You set things in motion in the morning, and they do their thing to create something good by the end of the day. I think about what gets set in motion by prayer, a kind word to a family member or a neighbor, a brisk walk, a photograph taken, a thought considered. 

We set things in motion, every day. For good or not, we do. I want to set the right things in motion.

_________________________
Did you set something in motion today?

Miriam's Tambourine: The Song You Would Sing

This morning I read in Exodus 15:20: "Then Miriam the prophetess, Aaron’s sister, took a tambourine in her hand, and all the women followed her with tambourines and dancing. Miriam sang to them: 'Sing to the Lord, for he is highly exalted'."

Something about this woman challenges me today. She takes up a tambourine and leads those following her into a great song of praise. I thought about women in my life who remind me of Miriam; they go before me and invite me to worship a great God. They lead others with the song their lives sing. 

I thought about the younger women in our lives who we might lead into worship. If they followed us, what song would they hear? What song is my life singing? Would it be a dirge, a complaint? Would it be an exceedingly joyful proclamation? 

I'm thinking about the song my life sings today. Living with flair means we lead women into praise.

_____________________________

Have you had a Miriam in your life? Are you a Miriam?

Maybe Today

All day, I have that feeling that something amazing is just about to happen. It actually doesn't matter if something does happen; it's the feeling that I love.

It's hope that maybe today, something.

I'm not sure what. It could be anything: Maybe today, I'll find a new friend. Maybe today, I'll hear from a publisher. Maybe today, I'll see something my eyes have never seen before. I rinse my hair out in the shower, and I just know that maybe today, something amazing will happen.

I love having hope in my heart. You just never know. Maybe today.

______________________________
Do you wake up thinking, "Maybe today?"

Go Now, Write It on a Scroll as an Everlasting Witness

This morning, I consider the strange call to . . . blog. Blogging? What a weird little genre of writing! I remember in Isaiah 30:8 that simple command to "Go now, write it on a scroll so that in days to come it may be an everlasting witness." I know this command was specifically for the prophet, but something about it rings true today. Something about recording the Lord's work--actually writing it down--matters so much. I think about creating a document for my children that's an "everlasting witness" to the Lord's work.

I think about Psalm 102 and the words, "Let this be written for a future generation, that a people not yet created may praise the Lord."

What if I simply recorded it all? Here's what God is doing. Here's what God has done. I don't want to forget. I don't want my children to forget.

I especially don't want to forget the nuggets of wisdom I find during the day. For example, on Thursday night, my husband and I took a missionary couple to dinner. They had been in Eastern Europe, raising their family and faithfully serving the Lord for decades. After all this time, their passion and love just oozed out of them.

"What's your secret to persevering all these years and keeping your joy? What's your best advice for us?" we ask them.

I learn two things that I want to pass on. First, they tell us to be certain of our calling from God and to not expect others to understand this special assignment. They advised us not to compare ourselves with others--either falling into the trap of superiority or inferiority--and to press on into our specific calling. We don't have to look like other families look. We don't have to do what other families are doing. And we don't expect them to behave just as we do.

Second, they said the big secret to perseverance was "understanding the Biblical definition of rest." They counseled us to "rest well" since there will always be too much work to do in a day.

Be certain of your calling. Rest well. 

There, I wrote it down to remember it. I wrote it down for you and my children as well.

________________________________________________
Do you record the Lord's work either in a blog or a journal?

"Oh, Good! You're Exactly Where I Want You to Be."

This morning, I rock in my old rocking chair as I read a verse from Colossians 2 about having "all the fullness" of God inside of me. I'm thinking about any empty place and the promise that I'm actually full.

I'm just rocking and thinking, tapping my chin, and I hear my youngest calling out to me. "Where are you? Mama, where are you?"

"I'm right here," I say.

She peers around the corner and cries out, "Oh, good! You're exactly where I want you to be."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to be here playing, and I want to be where you are." She's talking about the little doll tea party she's set up in the living room, right in front of the rocking chair. She starts playing. She's not even talking to me or looking at me. She's just playing in front of me, wanting me to be there.

So we're there together, and I feel very full inside. It feels like God is saying to me, "Oh, good! You're exactly where I want you to be." I rock some more and read. I'm bursting with fullness.

__________________________
Do you feel full today?

Hold Unswervingly

The word "unswervingly" occurs only once in the whole Bible. It's in Hebrews 10:23, my theme verse for my new birthday journal.

I write this on the first page: "Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful."

I chose this verse because of all the ways I have swerved and do swerve. I chose this verse to remind me to hold unswervingly to Jesus, even when everything about my life asks me to swerve away.

To swerve means to change directly abruptly. Usually, one swerves to avoid calamity. One swerves to get out of the way to find a better course. Oh, how my daily life asks me to swerve to find a better course than Jesus! Oh, how the ideas I hear and the words I read challenge me to swerve from the life of faith!

I find myself swerving away from a rich life of faith whenever calamity strikes. I find myself swerving to get out of the way of ideological controversies and debates at the university. Sometimes it seems easier to just agree with the dominate worldview--to swerve--to avoid the pain and confusion of debate, conflict, and hurt feelings. I'll just swerve on over to a comfortable and less controversial spot. I'll just swerve away from the hope I know is true.

No! No!

"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful." That's my prayer for this new age I'm facing.

_________________________
Do you have a theme verse for your year?

"You Told Me Once, and I Took Note."

This morning, a friend delivers a little birthday gift to me relating to the small details. She remembered the particular kind of coffee I love, the fun kind of socks I wear, the bright nail polish I put on my toes, and even the kind of pen I love to use best of all when grading papers and writing in my journal. 

Yes, she knew about the pens. She added them into the mix that made up a big package waiting for me in my kitchen.

She knew about the pens!

The kind of pen? It's the Pilot G-2 0.38 Premium Gel Roller in blue ink. She knows I'm a pen snob. It has to be the G-2. It has to be the 0.38 ultra fine pen. She wrapped them up in tissue paper, and I laugh so hard when I open them.

Small things. Tiny details. Oh, how loved I felt.

Living with flair means you remember things about your friends. You remember that they only use the Pilot G-2 0.38 Premium Gel Roller in blue ink. I asked her how in the world she knew about those pens. She said, "You told me once, and I took note."

So there you have it. I want to take note of those small things, those tiny details, in others.

____________________________________________
What's a small thing--a tiny detail--about you and your particular loves?