Dainty White

The sweetest aroma filled my senses this afternoon - trailing in on a breeze through my son's bedroom window. For a moment, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. It was the smell of home, the sweet scent of Star Jasmine.

This same breed of white flowers greeted me for years, standing brilliantly on the porch of the house I grew up in. From lazy Saturday afternoons playing with sidewalk chalk (back then it was still skinny and white) to my later years when a kiss good-night would end a date - that Star Jasmine stood tried and true, welcoming me through every stage of my young life.

This afternoon, I found myself on my face before the Lord, utterly emptied. Walking through weeks of darkness and discouragement, I prayed that God would replace my heart of stone with a heart of flesh (Ezekiel 36:26). I came to terms with the enormity of my lack, and embraced His gain.

A phone call brought me to my feet. My cousin Jodie, a true lifeline, spent an hour reminding me about all the wonderful things the wilderness has forced me to forget.

As we hung up, I felt my heart fill with a distant but familiar hope. And through the scent of God's dainty white flower, He began to chip away the rough edges, giving Joy the courage to head back home.

Sandpaper Scratches

I have really missed posting - but something about where I find myself leaves little room for blogging these days. Trying to weigh out the most important things in life, piling the big rocks in first - often times leave the floor peppered with pebbles and sand. Posting on my blog has become one of the pebbles not making it into my priority jar.

I choose to embrace the season I am in, no matter how confusing and painful it may be. Sharing with my readers will come later - much later. But for now, I cherish my connection with God and others.

Some day soon, I will be able to pour myself into what I was made to do. But for now, I allow God to sand away the rough edges, polishing rough corners (with much elbow grease) so that my writing will best reflect His face.

Not concerned so much anymore with how people perceive me--just shooting for authenticity, messy as it may be.

Selling out is never worth it . . . big rocks should always come first.

Breaking Into Print

It is difficult for me to wrap my mind around it . . . but I've been published!

God opened the most amazing door through a couple of writer friends. It was an opportunity that only He could have orchestrated.

Adding value to the people and the places I write about . . . this is my vision, this is my prayer.

Come and celebrate with me! Here is the link http://www.myturlock.com/coverstory.html.

My Website is Up

Just a note to let all of my bloggy friends know that my website is up! I will continue to post on my blog with notes about my writing journey, so I hope you will keep visiting.

I will be posting devotions regularly on the website . . . I've got three listed so far. Today's devotion includes a story about my tearful lunch at Panera.

Go to http://www.joannereese.com/ . . . and take a peek!

Just Right

"A little to the left, now the right. No, up . . . then down. Tweak the color a little - now change it back."

This has been my inner dialogue while creating a masterful website. Wanting to get it perfect has me working far too long on a project that really needs to be checked off. Excellence is something wonderful to strive for, when perfection becomes my focus, I find myself tipping the scale of insanity.

My pursuit of perfection can get me so twisted up. I find it in hundreds of places throughout my day, from getting my hair to cooperate to getting my kids to cooperate. Getting the beds made perfectly, working to edit a writing piece to death, to even feeling a failure in my relationships -- the underlying motivation is something I don't like to admit. I strive to keep things looking perfect because it gives me the illusion of being in control.

These perfectionist tendencies will often transfer over to my relationship with God. I strive for the perfect looking "quite time" and feel a failure if it doesn't look just right. Working to keep my heart pure, and my mind full of His precepts magnifies the untidiness of my heart.

As I learn to let go of my need to control through the avenue of perfection, I find that being true to myself is going to be messy. Relationships are rarely tidy and controllable - especially a relationship with the Living God.

A picture perfect snapshot of the beach shows miles of untouched and perfectly smooth sand. Personally, I prefer a photo with swirls of footprints side by side - God's and mine.

"Yes, right down the center . . . good. Now that's just right."

Donut Crumbs

I find no time to write, no time to be alone to connect with YOU. Running on empty, filling myself with the indulgence of donuts and extra sleep.

I take a seat on the floor of my bedroom this afternoon, and find the two doves that so often usher peace into my heart. They are seated on the fence, and look as if they have been waiting for me to slow down and take notice. Companions for life, true to one another through any storm.

Time for my writing finds no home. Time with God finds no chair - only the empty one I pass about a hundred times a day. So patiently YOU wait for me to notice.

So I offer the space and the place that follows me from one chore to the next - my heart. YOU are always with me, but rarely enjoyed. My creative parts always seem to be spinning, searching for the right combination of vowels and verbs as I strive to snap a picture, to paint a portrait of YOU.

The doves are feeding now, as I should be. To open God's Word, to taste and truly see how sweet companionship can be.

Puddles

I always appreciate the closed doors as much as the open ones. So much of my heart has felt unrested with thoughts of cramming a book proposal into a couple of months. It seems logical - I am going to be at Mount Hermon in April, where editors and agents will be waiting to meet with aspiring writers just like myself.

But as logical as it may seem, and as hard as I've tried, I just cannot seem to force this. Unrest has plagued my heart, filling me with anxiety and irritability. This is no way to write - this is no way to live. God has called me to be free.

So as I break away from my self-made shackles, I see that simplicity is key. As I have quieted my heart before the Father, I discern that my expectations and His are quite different. God is not in a hurry. His timing is absolutely perfect, and tending to my husband, my children and my home takes center stage in this season of my life. This is where I find my peace.

Following your dream can be a difficult thing. Watching that door close on your heart squeezes every ounce of selfishness right out. What's left is a surrendered puddle on the floor, one that God can finally take in His hands to mold and shape as He desires.

Well, this soggy little puddle will be preparing three devotionals for April, which means I'd better get my tappin' little fingers warmed up again. Posting to my blog every day did have its advantages. Like stretching exercises or jumping jacks, it got my creative juices flowing - getting me ready for God's next assignment.

Today, I feel pretty out of shape. But with the proper training and the nutrition of God's Word, I'll be back on track in no time.

My dear blogging friend, God's closed doors can be the best manifestations of His love. Never underestimate the value of stillness.

God speaks loudest in the puddles.