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.

Storyteller

A tiny seed slips into the deep recesses of my heart. Filled with promise and hope, it works silently, pushing against the the dirt that surrounds it. Watered one day with vision, hard work and momentum. Stepped on the next, strangled by worry and doubt.

I have been given a dream. A very low level of my consciousness knows it. Day and night it calls to me in whispers. Words I can't quite make out that make more sense than the things I can hear and see. Wanting so much to see the end result, to really know where this journey will lead.

But I am instructed to be still - to wait and simply be.

I return to the world of blogging for many reasons. Documenting my encounters with a God who has captured my heart - this seems like a good use of time. The practice posting affords, keeps ideas fresh and fingers flying. But more than anything I find a need to get what is inside, out. Like a dam about to burst, my heart longs to be seen.

In my last post, I spoke of taking steps toward the writing industry. The last couple of months have proven to be more than getting that next paragraph written. Embracing truth becomes necessary for anybody who aspires to become an artist.

Facing truth ensures death. Death of self.

If you are still with me, I hope you will stick around. I aspire to inspire, much like the griot in Freedom's Pen, by Wendy Lawton. Every gifted storyteller began with one idea - a seed. Every seed must succumb to terrible conditions and surrender to death before the transformation can begin.

What kind of seed has God handed you? This is your ministry to the world! God needs your voice, your ambition, your heart.

I am just finishing up a book that has stirred the dreamer inside. I would recommend it to anybody who loves to get lost in a good story. Sweet Janxa, with incredible talent, would not have been able to blossom without the Wheatley's.

You've heard the old saying, "Timing is everything." I'd like to throw in my two cents this morning. God's timing is everything. It can mean the difference between spinning your wheels and reaching the stars.

My dear readers, I hold a special place in my heart for you. I hope to deliver a story to you, through the posts in this blog that will challenge you to embrace truth.

A mighty oak waits to break past that dirt. Patience dear one . . . God's timing is well worth the wait.

New Beginning

Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails. ~ Proverbs 19:21

It is time, my friends, for me to take the next step on this journey. I've chosen not to post for the past month, so that I can work on some other writing projects.

As I complete my LongRidge Writer's Course, I've decided that it is time for me to start submitting my work. Yes, to join the real world of writers out there, who must rise against the nemesis of the rejection letter. I'm sure there are plenty in my future, but I press on, hoping for that open door.

I've also taken the plunge, and registered for Mount Hermon. This is HUGE for me! So aside from finishing up assignment number twelve, I will be preparing articles for magazines, writing a forward for a good friend's published book, and working on a short story for a Christmas book I will be submitting to. Not to mention, the Write His Answer workshops that I will start in January, and the Writer's Guild I hope to join in the near future.

God has opened up so many doors for this newbie. I have so much to learn! I invite you to check my blog from time to time, as I will be posting about the ups and downs of this new step. You can also check FaceBook, as I have been dipping into that a bit these days.

It is my hope, that as I take this step into my destiny, that my pursuit of this dream will encourage you to discover your own.

What is God's dream for your life? Like a dear writer friend of mine shared with me, I pass the same words along to you . .

"Go for it!"

Born Leader

Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it. ~ Proverbs 22:6

It was twelve years ago today that I saw and held my son for the first time. His wiggly little body had become familiar from the inside during the months he was baking. Now the movements were felt from the outside. It was surreal.

I labored for hours, about sixteen to be exact. An epidural brought some relief, but because only half of my body responded, I felt every contraction on my left side. Mark watched the contraction monitor, and tried to prepare me at the lines went up. With each crescendo of consuming pain, it was all I could do to breath through the waves.

After what seemed like an eternity, Matthew finally entered the world. He let out a dignified scream, and proceeded to grab the suction bulb right out of the doctor's hands. Now that my friends, is what you call a born leader! I can just imagine what he must have been thinking, after getting to know him these twelve years.

Hey, it is freezing out here. Where am I? Who is this guy in the white coat, is he the one who is in charge? Get that thing out of my face!

After cleaning him off, and handing my husband a tissue to dry the lake on his face, they placed this brand new life on my lap. I held my son. A boy. We did not know the sex of the baby before hand, which made the surprise so sweet.

Those first days home were so difficult. Colic kept Matthew up at all hours of the night, leaving us feeling frazzled and ill-equipped. But as the months wore on, it got easier in some ways and harder in others. Even today, all these years later, raising two sons and a daughter is our greatest joy and our greatest challenge.

My little blond haired cutie is what brought this hard-hearted young mom back to church. It had been years since I stepped foot into a sanctuary full of spirit filled believers. Being angry at God for half of a decade, I really didn't want anything to do with church. But my whole perspective changed when Matthew was born. Mark and I wanted the best for him, and raising him in church seemed like it would be best.

I have a great relationship with my son all of these years later. He is intelligent, loving, and extremely funny. He is one of my favorite people in the whole world! His faith is strong, his commitment to God unwavering. I see great things for this born leader.

My heart swells with pride as I watch my Matthew grow. May God always instill in Him, what is best.

Happy Birthday son. Daddy and I love you so.

Fruit

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus. ~ Philippians 2:5

I read the most amazing prayer request yesterday. It went something like this, "Please pray that I will represent God. That when others see me, they see God." Wow. For some reason it pierced my heart. I longed for the same kind of thing.

As I muddled through Monday, I found myself a little bit on the grumpy side yesterday, especially with my kids. I could blame it on a long list of things, like it being Monday, us being busy, and so on. You know those selfish moments we all have (well, I guess I'm just assuming) where taking care of other people's needs feels like such an inconvenience?

While I still worked to pack lunches, fold laundry, bathe little bodies just like every other night, this night my heart just wasn't in it. I longed for the moments when my kids would finally be in bed so that I could have a little bit of peace and quiet - a little bit of ME time.

That may sound perfectly reasonable, every parent needs a break now and then, right? But something I noticed that was different about yesterday, was my motivation for quiet. I wanted to jump back onto Facebook (I am embarrassed to even write this) to see who might have written on my wall. My mind raced with thoughts about who else might be on line at the same time as me. My pulse quickened . . . my attitude stunk.

We all have things in our lives that seem good - really good, but somehow they squeeze that juicy Fruit of the Spirit right out of our lives. While I have only been a Facebook player for a total of two days, I found that it consumed my thoughts and fought for my attention - a little bit too much.

So what is that vice for you? Is it food? Shopping? Surfing on the web to build cyberspace friendships? Most everything is okay, as long as it is taken in moderation. It is when the thing that we try to keep control of begins taking control of us, that we need to run.

Recognizing this pattern in me, I don't know if the social media is going to be a good idea. It would make sense to keep at it while setting the necessary boundaries, but it seems like once I jump on I can so easily lose track of time, and even more, lose track of the whereabouts and my heart.

As we walk this path called faith together, it is my prayer that your heart would long to look like Jesus. His life paints a portrait of beautiful things, like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.

Anything that might try and steer you away from such things is not worthy of your time. No matter how fun and trendy it might be.

To be a representative of God is serious business - it is no small task. Inconvenient? At times, yes.

But He is worthy of ALL.

Connection

If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up! ~ Ecclesiastes 4:10

It was mind blowing. I chose from a list of over eighty people. Clicking on folks to add as friends. As I became familiar with each page and its capabilities, I chatted with a couple of friends on IM -- all at the same time! From invitations to flair, I received quite an education in the hour I spent parked on my living room couch.

Was it time well spent? That, my friend, is the question.

I've been thinking lately, about the importance of building relationships. Getting to know who I am has been key in being able to relate to others. Something very true about who I am got squashed in my growing up years. I could read off a long list of reasons I suspect caused such a shut down, but I choose not to. God is taking me very carefully through each festering wound, to apply the healing balm of forgiveness.

We all have them. Relationship crash and burns. It may have been with a family member, an acquaintance or a good friend. No matter who you've broken ties with and whatever the circumstance was, there is just no getting around it. It hurts.

There are so many things that lend to a break-up. I don't just mean the boyfriend-girlfriend kind, but all facets of the relationship world. Pride, envy, jealousy, selfishness, insecurities and fear, they all lend to a breakdown at some level or another. When communication gets muffled, feelings get hurt and friendships suffer.

With love being our greatest aim, cultivating relationships do seem worthy of my time. I've studied people who are very good at making friends, and there is one thing that is necessary to build a true and lasting friendship. Time. It takes time to get to know the other person, and time to share the details of your own life.

Being the kind of a personality that strives on productivity, I've let the friendship thing slide for too long. I've asked God to show me how to be good at this relationship thing again, and through my pursuit of friendships, He has begun to heal the wounds of past disasters.

While some may view social media as a waste of time, I choose to take a different view of things. Balance is key in the pursuit of any new venture. Scheduling lunches and dates with friends, picking up the phone and calling - just because - and typing a simple message at ten o'clock at night can all add to the beauty of this thing called a friend.

Pity is the busy man who finds he has fallen. It's a lonely world out there. It takes time and energy to make connections. You've gotta work to make friends! It can be frightening if you've been hurt before, but the risk is well worth it.

So I encourage you, it you haven't already done so, take a chance. Jump on this thing called Facebook and invite me to be your friend.

Chances are . . . I'll say yes!

Golden Years

Gray hair is a crown of splendor; ~ Proverbs 16:31a

As I sat in the sterile examination room this morning, my heart raced. I felt faint. Visiting the doctor does not always generate such anxiety. But with an imagination like mine . . . every ticking second felt like an eternity.

I tried to keep myself occupied by settling into the novel I have been chewing on for a week or so. Deep into the storyline, it was easy to escape into the lives of Lydia, Carol, Jacqueline and Alix. Their lives were in turmoil, from cancer diagnosis, to infertility, to marriage problems. The pretend drama seemed easier to cope with than the imagined drama of my own.

I heard a knock. The doctor entered the room, extending his hand. All smiles, he chatted about the weather and then proceeded to ask me about my ailment.

A lump. The one underneath my right arm. This is what brought me all the way to Modesto so early in the morning. With my nerves on edge, I took a seat on the examination table, and told myself to relax. As the doctor examined me, I don't remember speaking, or thinking . . . or even breathing.

"Nothing to worry about. It is a glandular swelling . . . it happens. Our bodies change into our thirties, forties and fifties . . . "

"Are you trying to say that I am getting old?" was my reply.

We both chuckled, and I decided that getting old isn't so bad. Even if it means fatty deposits tucked underneath my armpit. Getting older sure beats the alternative.

As I drove away this morning, I felt grateful for the free bill of health. I smiled with thoughts of God's comfort even through the week of uncertainty. If the news hadn't have been so promising, I know that God would have carried me through.

I thought about the thousands of women just like me who visited the doctor this morning - but left with an uncertain diagnosis. Somebody, somewhere heard the words "You have breast cancer." And for those women, I ached.

While I haven't found a gray hair to date, the affects of ageing are beginning to take their toll. I welcome the idea of growing old and gray. Rocking on a porch, immersed in a juicy novel and living a drama of my own?

Now that's golden.