June 2010

by on

I think God has a direct line to my email account because every day I receive a message that draws my heart to Him and reminds me afresh of His goodness. This morning I was reading a message from a dear friend who’s helping me write an article on prayer and as I read through her testimony, I was reminded once again of God’s grace, and power. And my total powerlessness. It’s funny, I spend so much time constructing what I believe to be impenetrable walls around our daughter, anticipating every “what if” scenario so that I can take steps to avoid them. And yet, deep in my gut reality nibbles at my false sense of peace, reminding me how unpredictable and uncertain life can be. No matter how hard I try to avoid it, life happens. But when man-made walls crumble at my feet, one thing remains–the protective, loving hands of my heavenly Father. And those hands are much stronger, and more permanent, than any walls I could construct.

Our daughter is reaching a difficult age, an age where my husband and I must release the reigns a little to allow her to grow. And although I would love to insert a “rational-decision making” computer chip into her  brain, I realize that experience is the best teacher and like it or not, she’s going to make mistakes. But I also know that the God who created  her, who gently guides her and who loves her even more than I do, will catch her when she falls.

 

by on

This morning I received an email that sent me on a spiritual memorial. As I get ready to spend another day doing what I love most surrounded by the people I love most, I am looking back over the broken, and at times thorn-covered, road God has brought me on with gratitude…even pleasure. You’d think the straight, meadow-lined portions would come to mind first, but somehow over the years, my Sunday strolls have dimmed amidst the steep alpine climbs and valleys. Now, as I stand on the other side, the faint glimmers that pulled me forward emerge in full view. Glancing behind, I can see all the nasty branches, weeds, and weesels that have been purged along the way, lying among the thorns and brambles now hidden behind blooming lilac bushes. I remember the pain of the pruning sheers as they hacked away at the life sucking vines that had previously entangled my heart. At times, I felt like I would break beneath beneath them, but I didn’t. I fell, crumbling beneath the weight of my sin, only to land in the gentle arms of my father. And it was there that I was able to see His heart, to feel His strength and to understand the depths of His grace. It was in those moments, stripped to my very core, that I learned to trust.

And for now, I am reliving those moments, and the lessons learned along the way, remembering how truly gracious my heavenly Father is. Even when I couldn’t see it, even when I didn’t understand it, even when my heart screamed out in bitterness and pain, He was there. And never once did He let go.

So now I’m going to share the simple sentence, pulled from God’s Word, that sent me on my journey of remembrance:

“I am the LORD your God who brought you out of __________.” Fill in your own blank. Thanks to author Ben Erlichman for this gentle reminder this morning.

What about you? What valleys and pits has God brought you out of? What chains has He broken? Take a moment to reflect on them now. Have you found, like me, that never a tear has been wasted?

by on

I enjoy reading almost as much as I enjoy writing, and with so many wonderful authors pumping out one great story after another, my passion for great words will be fueled for quite some time. Reading Linda Windsor’s novel, Healer, is like stepping into another world, a world of romance, courage, uncertainty and yet, unyielding faith.

Intrigued by this Arhurian Scottland novel, the first in the Brides of Alba trilogy, I shot Linda an email loaded with questions. Her responses amazed me, and made me love her story even more. Thanks, Linda, for being so real with us. Ah, transparency. I love it!

Me: Brenna Gowry lives during a very tumultuous time and is forced to deal with horrors that most of couldn’t even imagine at a very young age. Where does she derive her strength?

Linda: The beauty of Brenna is that she has been raised in isolation from all that. Until she was forced into hiding, she was educated by the Sisters of Avalon, who like Brenna, are descended from Britain’s first century apostolic lineage. Her life has been saturated by Scripture and those who live it, including her nurse. Brenna is well aware that horrible things happen, things she cannot change, like the loss of her family.

But her hope and faith is in the now and future…what can be through God’s love. She believes God has a plan, even the darkest of her hours. She sees the best in people instead of the worst. What they can be. This is what draws the embittered hero to her and moves him to want to protect this innocent. However, he soon sees that Brenna’s faith and God are stronger and more effective than his sword.

Me: What do you most admire about Brenna?

Linda: I’ve never had a heroine who was quite so grounded in her faith, although she is no saccharine character. Brenna struggles with her temper, with her will versus God’s. Her pragmatic approach of reining in her feelings to work or pray a problem through is the result of learning that feelings are not reliable, but the Word is. Feelings are of this world and will change. The Word will not. So she faces internal conflict with this time and again. I can relate to this conflict of faith over feelings from having been through the pits of chemical depression, another type of isolation, but isolation nonetheless.

The one time she does take the matter of her loneliness into her own hands instead of waiting on the Lord, she makes a muck of things. When I do the same, I make a muck of me. But I’m a slower learner than Brenna <g>.

Me: What motivated you to write this story?

Linda: I have always been fascinated with the Dark Ages and early Christianity. What did the early Christians have or do that tamed the barbarians when Roman swords could not? Yes, I know it’s God’s love and the Word, but how did they spread it so effectively? History is full of what the church has done wrong in the past, but what did it do right? Having written a trilogy set this same era in Ireland (The Fires of Gleannmara—MAIRE, RIONA, and DEIRDRE), my research gave me many answers.

These enabled me to reach my daughter who was stalked and assaulted in college, turned against God in anger, and became involved in Wicca, or white witchcraft. Her return to her faith turned my interest into a passion to reach out to other New Age believers (New Age being old age at the core) and to educate Christians to be effective witnesses, rather than drive nonbelievers away with judgmental attitudes born of fear and misunderstanding.

Me: What is the main message or truth you hoped to convey?

The information garnered from my research opened the lines of discussion with my daughter and New Age believers, enabling me to witness effectively for Christ. She wouldn’t hear it from the Bible. Man could have made the Scripture up in her skewed view. But tidbits from history and the traditions (from more than one culture or nation) of the very scholars, or druids, so revered by New Age aficionados? Yes, she’d hear that.

It didn’t bring about an overnight change. She took the information in and like seeds of faith, God watered them over a period of years. On Mother’s Day a few years later, my daughter accepted Christ back into her life. Why? The church wasn’t perfect, but He was. The church made mistakes, but so did she. She learned to keep her eyes on Jesus, not the church per se. In Him, there will never be disappointment. Faith in man is faith on sand.

As Christians, we must be educated in our own church history and the beliefs of others. We must learn, not respond to nonbelievers with hearsay. That is another reason I have a Bibliography in the back of HEALER. I hope to post a short list of things I learned that helped me reach my daughter on my website at www.LindaWindsor.com. All these are woven into my historical novels, that they might teach as well as entertain with page-turning plots. At least that’s my hope.

Lastly, if you have a loved one who is lost, embittered, and does not know Jesus, do not grow faint with fear. God hears your prayers for them. He has a plan for them, tailored to them. It may not unfold the way we expect it to, but it will come to pass in His perfect time. Our hope for our loved ones are placed on the solid rock of Jesus Christ. He will not fail us…or them.

Me: What part of Brenna’s personality do you most relate to and why?

Linda: I understand her loneliness from isolation. A clan war didn’t isolate me, but chemical/biological depression did for several years. The way that Brenna deals with her trials is reflective of the many lessons God has taught me during my dark times.

Key to this is that feelings are temporal and not always trustworthy. God’s promises and assurances are. Focus on His Word when you feel darkness closing in and believe. Know you are not alone. He is there, even though you can’t feel His presence. And know that you’re in good company besides. Some of his favorite people had depression.

And I will add this. Accept help. There is no more shame in taking medication for chemical depression than there is in taking insulin for diabetes. Both are the results of poor body chemistry function.

by on

This morning I received an email from a dear friend who’s struggling to keep her head above water. Wave after wave has crashed over her, making it hard for her to see the shore. She’s so exhausted, she’s started to wonder if perhaps she’ll remain lost at sea forever.

As I read the obstacles, struggles, fears and concerns she shared, I was reminded of my first open water swim. The water was cold and somehow the 500 meters across the lake seemed double to the twenty-lap equivalent in the pool. There weren’t any clearly marked lines painted along the bottom. Only a blur of feet pelting me in the head and face and the occasional buoy shrouded in fog. As wave after wave swept over me, filling my nose and mouth with murky lake water, it felt like I was fighting a loosing battle. For every exhausting stroke forward, the current seemed to take me two strokes back. And the harder the current pulled, the harder I kicked. Before long, my tense muscles killed my buoyancy. My legs sank, throwing my entire body off alignment. For about two minutes. Then, muscle memory kicked in and my body relaxed, allowing me to follow the gentle ebb and flow of the current.

The result? The minute I quit fighting and striving and pounding the water, my body started to relax. And a relaxed body floats much better than a tense one. Before long, I fell into a nice, smooth rhythm that carried me to shore with little effort on my part.

I think the same holds true for our spiritual life as well. We’ll hear God’s call. Maybe it’s too start a new Sunday school class or join a critique group, or maybe it’s to go back to school after ten, twenty or thirty years out. And all we can see are all the waves crashing against our face, pulling us back to shore. We begin to sink under a torrent of to-do lists and expectations, forgetting that the God who told us to jump in is ready and able to carry us to the shore. And he’s already got our course mapped out. He knows which way the wind is blowing, which way the waves will crash and which currents will carry us the farthest. It is our choice, then, to close our eyes and relax, allowing our bodies to float in whatever direction He carries us, knowing that He will not let us drown, or we can pummel against the waves, beating ourselves into a frenzy of exhaustion as we fight against the current.

The funny thing is, ten (or twenty or thirty, God only knows) years from now we’ll end up in the same place–standing on the shore looking back over God’s faithfulness, grateful for the lessons learned along the way. The question is, what will our condition be once we arrive? Exhausted from a life of striving or peacefully content after having taken the ride of our lives?

I am amused to find this post a perfect example. Last night and this morning I struggled  to come up with some amazing article to add to my blog today. What’d I come up with? Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Finally, I decided to let it go. After all, wracking an empty brain is a waste of time. And then this morning, in God’s timing, I received my email that triggered a head full of words. In an instant, without any brainstorming or striving, I knew exactly what I was to write. And I let the gently flowing current do the rest.

by on

If you peruse the isles of any grocery store long enough, you’ll quickly recognize American’s love-hate relationship with salt. In the crackers and chips isle, your blood pressure will rise just staring at all the labels. One ounce of potato chips have 186 mg of sodium. And believe it or not, pretzels are even worse! Most pretzels pack a whopping 500 mg of sodium per ounce. Then there’s spaghetti sauces, cheeses, peanut butter (my personal favorite) and cottage cheese. Yep, even cottage cheese. It has 450 mg of sodium in every half cup serving. We have become so saturated with salt, “low-sodium” has become the latest buzz word. In fact, according to the NY Daily News, researchers from PepsiCo and Frito-Lay are working to reduce the amount of salt in potato chips by changing the shape of its crystals.

In our day and age, salt has become so prevalent, it can be hard to understand why Jesus talked so much about its importance, but in Bible times, salt played a crucial role. It added flavor, preserved food and was even used medicinally. Salt was so important, in fact, that it was often used as money. Our word “salary” arose from the phrase  “salarium argentum” which means “salt money”. In ancient Rome, soldiers were given salt as part of their pay.  So when Jesus talks about His followers being the salt of the earth, He is telling us to add flavor to our surroundings and preserve what is good in our culture. (IMHO)

With my bags of potato chips, pretzels and sodium-loaded sauces (salsa’s my favorite) I understand this analogy. I can actually visualize flavor-producing “salt” pouring from my Spirit-filled being, but what I couldn’t understand for the longest time was how to keep my salt from losing it’s saltiness. (Matthew 5:13 “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men.”)

I know salt. I’ve been using salt, in one way or another, for–oh, do I really want to age myself? Let’s just say, for a long time.  I’ve dissolved it, re-crystalized it, looked at it under a microscope, stuck my tongue on halite (rock salt–for a college Earth Science class) and I’ve got to tell you, the flavor doesn’t change.

I understood the concept. Flavorless salt would be bland, ineffective and basically worthless. The same is true of a flavorless Christian. And I certainly don’t want to be bland, but how in the world can I keep my witness spicy?

Last Sunday as I read a footnote in my new study Bible (It’s an archaeological study Bible and I love it!) I had an ah-ha moment. Most of the salt used in Israel came from the Dead Sea and was full of impurities. These impurities caused the salt to lose some of its flavor.

So now that I understand the historical context of this verse, it is easier to see how it might apply to my spiritual walk. Just as impurities weaken salt’s flavor, impurities in our lives, known as sin, weaken our witness for Christ. We talk about the love of God in one breath, and in the next, gossip about our neighbor. We share how great life is with Christ, and then complain about our jobs or doing the laundry or chasing after energetic two year olds. We say God is loving and in control, and then we fret endlessly about our finances. We talk about the power of the Holy Spirit and then allow our emotions to control us. And to the non-Christian world, this can be very confusing.

For me, my greatest impurity is selfishness. My selfishness weakens my witness, takes away my flavor and, and when left unchecked, reduces my words, no matter how heart-felt, to flavorless powder. It is my selfishness that hurries past an old lady working to get groceries in her car instead of stopping to help. It is my selfishness that dashes into line while a fellow shopper struggles with her shopping cart so that I can get to my car a whole five minutes faster. And it is time that I act on the conviction God sparked on Monday. (To find out more, read my Death by Wheat Squares post) And maybe now that I recognize this flavor-sapping impurity (one of many, I’m sure.) I’ll be more diligent in my flavor-preservation.

Today, as a first step effort, I’m going to focus on the needs of others by asking them for specific ways I can help or serve them. Waiting for them to come to me is too easy. Today I’m going to beat them to the punch. (Feel free to hold me accountable by checking back with me tomorrow. -grin-)

Wanna join me? What is your greatest “impurity” and what are some steps you can take to purge that sin from your salt?

PS, this post may seem to contradict my previous one on transparency, but understand, there is a difference between being real with one another and just plain griping.

by on

Oh, how I’d love to fill a page of all the wonderful, self-sacrificing ways I showed my husband love over the weekend, but unfortunately, lack of wheat squares did me in! Maybe if it had been something big like sacrificing a day with the girls to slave in the yard with my man, or staying up until the wee hours of the night to pray for a struggle he was facing. Maybe then I would have demonstrated some of that die to self I always hear so much about. But coming home to a hot, stuffy house (our air conditioner broke the day before we left on vacation, leaving our house to simmer in the 100 degree weather. It was 85 degrees inside when we returned home Saturday night. Joy.), waking up to an empty fridge, and you guessed it, no wheat squares, I was anything but that self-sacrificing servant I know God has called me to be. In fact, I quickly resembled a beady eyed, grasping vulture jumping on the last cup of coffee before my husband had a chance to steal it from me. Needless to say, I did not give my man the cheery good morning he deserved! And then, after a morning of grabbing, griping and festering, we all jumped in the van to head to church.

OK, so what’s wrong with that picture?

Later that day as I was reading Francis Chan’s book called Crazy Love, reminded of the awesomeness of my Creator, the depth of my sin hit me smack dab in the gut. (It’s amazing how petty my actions seem in light of Christ’s grace.) Now maybe jonesing for the last bowl of cereal or last cup of coffee isn’t serial murder sin, but it did reveal quite a bit about the condition of my heart. And as I poured my heart out to God in honest confession, I realized how truly selfish I am. And totally self-absorbed. Selflessness and love reveals itself most not in grand, awe-inspiring acts but instead in the day to day choices of placing others before ourselves. In hindsight, would it have killed me to go without that last cup of coffee? And was going without a bowl of cereal really worth throwing a Jennifer-sized fit? Or could I have used those same events to bless my husband? And if I had, if I had placed my focus off of myself and onto him, what would our drive to church have looked like? Ouch! Thank goodness God is ever working on this selfish prideful heart of mine!

by on

I’m reading Crazy Love by Francis Chan, realizing how often I’ve moved God to the back seat and taken His awesomeness for granted. Why do I settle for second best when I could have the very best? When I take the time to step back and truly think about who God is, who He really is, and what is available to me through the blood of Christ, I can’t help but wonder if much of my time is just chasing my tail. And all the while He’s watching, shaking his head, knowing that if I would but come and lay it all at His feet, everything else would fall perfectly into place.

I like this quote Francis gives in the caption of the video: “Have you ever found yourself wondering whether or not the goal of life should be normalcy?”

Normalcy, complacency, apathy, selfishness…joy robbers, all of them. And yet, I don’t have to let them in.

Lord, thank you for reminding me of the true treasures of life. Thank you for reminding me of the treasure I have in you.

Crazy Love Video

by on

Our local radio station is having a “positive speaking” challenge where listeners are encouraged to guard their tongues in order to make sure that every word spoken is edifying to others. This means no complaining, no venting, no unloading on your husband the minute he walks through the door…but does it also mean no sharing, no transparency, no allowing others past our plastic smiles and carefully rehearsed, “I’m doing well, and you?”

Now don’t get me wrong, Ephesians 4:29 (Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouth but only that which is helpful for building others up that it may benefit those who listen.) is one of my favorite verses. And Philippians 2:14 (Do everything without complaining or arguing) is another one that frequently graces my sticky notes. And I understand and totally agree with the premise of this challenge. Most of what we say could easily go unsaid and we need to be very careful with our word choices.

But I think we have to be equally careful that we don’t go too far. We are joined in a body for a reason. The Bible also tells us to bear one another’s burdens and to encourage one another. It took almost ten years for my husband to get to a place where he felt comfortable sharing his deepest struggles, pains and fears with me, and whew, was I ever so grateful when he did! By understanding how he is feeling and what he is dealing with, I am better able to minister to him. If I know he’s had a tough day, I won’t take it personal when he hides behind a remote control. And perhaps I’ll even find a way to bless him. (BTW, fresh baked chocolate chip cookies do wonders!)  And even more important, it allows me to see deeper into his heart.

If you’ve read the intro to my White Picket Fence series, you know how frustrated I get with the whole “religious façade” we often portray. Somehow we think Christianity is all about being perfect. Wow, do we have it wrong! Christianity is all about admitting we’re not perfect and allowing ourselves to fall into grace. Grace is unmerited favor. It is the healing, love, and acceptance we experience because of what Christ did for us. But how can we experience healing if we’re hiding behind thick, brick walls? And how can we experience true fellowship, the fellowship God intends, if we’re not real with each other?

In my latest novel, Impossible Choices, Alice has Ephesians 4:29 mastered. She’s not doing to bad with Philippians 2:14, either. Ephesians 4:25 is another matter. (Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to his neighbor, for we are all members of one body.) Her entire life is a false hood. She is trying so hard to live up to this ideal of what a good Christian mother and wife should be, she has shut out the very people who could help her most. And we need to be careful we don’t do the same. It’s time we get real with one another, sharing our deepest struggles, so that we truly can carry one another’s burdens. Because let me tell you, if we keep trying to lug them ourselves, it won’t belong before we crumble.

by on

I joined American Christian Fiction Writers a month ago (wow, how time flies) and already I feel like I am part of  a giant, encouraging family. My writing has improved triple-fold and interacting with other dedicated and passionate writers motivated me to complete my current novel in just over two months. (Although the editing process will not be so “flowing”.) And now, having received such blessing via online interaction, classes and critique groups (just a few of the benefits of being part of ACFW) I can hardly wait for the ACFW conference!

This years ACFW Writers’ Conference is a “must attend” event. Held in Indianapolis, Indiana, writers, editors and agents across the nation will meet to learn, fellowship and encourage one another. The classes and workshops offered are phenomenal. A quick glance at the schedule tells me I need to prayerfully make a list of “must take” classes that way I can utilize every minute available. Needless to say, I don’t anticipate a wasted moment. I know I want to attend Dr. Dennis Hensley’s class on symbolism and I have a feeling Jenny B. Jone’s class on using humor in fiction will be a hoot. Everyone can use a few guffaws now and then, right? For new authors, Tracie and Jim Peterson will be teaching the basics of fiction writing and more advanced writers can learn how to move your readers from laughter to tears then back to laughter again. But even more than having my brain fed, I’m looking forward to the spiritual fulfillment I know I’ll receive at the ACFW conference. I can’t wait to spend time with other authors who have given their lives, and keyboards, to the cause of Christ.

Writing can be a very lonely endeavor, if you let it. Spending hours locked away in an office while your fingers pound away on a keyboard doesn’t form close relationships…unless you know where to look. ACFW has allowed me to interact daily with incredibly strong Christians, all from the comfort of my computer. There is something very encouraging about talking with someone who shares your passions, and your struggles. And this is what I look forward to most as I anticipate this year’s conference—the opportunity to get to know other authors better.

Wanna join me? Sign up now at http://www.acfw.com/conference