August 2010

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Why is it whenever I write a blog post on something, a life-situation slaps me in the face, forcing me to choose between eating my words or living them out? God must have a sense of humor. It’s almost like He’s sitting up in heaven saying, “So you’re going to tell others about obedience, huh? About staying on track even when the climb hits a thirty degree slope? Let’s see how well you handle this one.”

Okay, so maybe God’s not quite so sarcastic. Perhaps challenging would be a better word. Or maybe He’s just trying to hold me accountable. There’s nothing like sending your “ought-to’s” across cyberspace to keep you on the straight and narrow. (I’m sure it won’t be long before that fit I threw in the Apple Store comes back to haunt me.) And lately, God is reminding me of all the lofty things I said about obedience.

Our church is going on a mission trip to El Salvador. I know, I know, most of you have probably been on a zillion mission trips. And I’m sure you had the time of your life. I’m a bit too reclusive-obsessive-compulsive-neurotic for those kinds of things. Give me a computer tucked in a far away bedroom and I’m good to go. Send me on a plane, to another country, to experience who-knows-what, eat who-knows-what, and sleep who-knows-where? Kinda gets my stomach churning.

For starters, I hate to fly. Like makes-me-wanna-vomit hate it. I haven’t flown in over seven years. So how did we get to Florida, Utah, South Carolina, and Washington D.C.? We drove. All nineteen or twenty-four, or whatever hours. And I’m sure my husband’s willingness to drive with me verges on enabling. Although we both console ourselves with the fact that we are saving three plane tickets, a car rental, and whatever else they’d charge in suitcase handling. Oh, and we don’t have to tip the baggage guy. Nope, still enabling.

And then there’s the whole food thing. I’m a recovered bulimic/anorexic. Started shedding the pounds when I was twelve. Didn’t stop dancing with the scale until my twenties. And although God’s done some amazing things—hmm, is gaining thirty-five pounds amazing? Okay, yeah, it is. Better to have a tire around the middle than chains around my neck, which is what an eating disorder is—self-imposed bondage. And although I no longer count calories or weigh food (oh, my. I’m getting a bit too personal here.) I still avoid hot-dogs and fried chicken like the plague. Unfortunately, I don’t think El Salvador will have chicken salads with low-fat dressing. (Would it be selfish to pray for that?)

And then there’s the whole anal-retentive side of my personality. Yes, I carry hand sanitizer and a tide stick in my purse and I’m all over those nice little wipies at the grocery store. And I could go on, but I’d rather not have a bunch of mental health professionals knocking on my door. (Even though I know your intentions in calling them would be good. Done in love, right?)

Now I bet you’re wondering, if this little jaunt causes me such heartburn, why am I going? Why not just write a check and call it good? First and most important reason—because my husband wants to go. Now, that may sound a bit 1920’s to you all, but I strongly believe my husband is the spiritual leader in our home. Not that he hoards this over me. Quite the contrary. My husband is the most loving, supportive man I have ever met. He continually puts his needs on the back burner to shower my daughter and I with love. But I do believe God will guide and protect our family through him. So when God speaks to him, I’m listening. With both ears.

The second reason? Because I recognize my fears to be petty. Here I’m freaking out about not having sanitizer, while the people we’re going to love on worry about whether or not they’ll have a meal the next day, or weather their rickety house will cave in on them while they’re sleeping. And it’s easy to remove myself from these people, or to justify my lack of action—whether they live in Haiti, El Salvador, Ethiopia, where ever—but God sees them. His love for them, each one of them, drove Him to the cross.

So today I’m taking that first step. I’m going to start working towards my passport. And I’m determined to follow this obedience thing to the end. If only my decision would make it to my queasy stomach, I’d be good to go.

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We hear a lot about “show, don’t tell” and deep POV, and yet, we continue to connect the dots for our readers, drawing road maps they really don’t need. Half the time, the action of the story is enough to get my heart pumping. So don’t tell me Joe Bloe is scared. Let me dive deep into his brain and become a part of him. Let me feel his heart racing and the sweat pooling between his shoulder blades. Make my vision narrow into a sea of black as everything around me spins into oblivion.

As writers, so much happens in our head—like entire, sometimes very argumentative, conversations—it can be hard knowing which ones to invite our readers in on and which ones to lay dormant. But as a reviewer, reading those, “she felt,” “she said,” “she thought,” attributes set my teeth on edge. Almost as much as those annoying and unnecessary prepositional phrases like “on her face” or “over her chest.” If your heroine’s smiling, we know where the smile appears. Unless maybe you’re writing a sci-fi. And where else would your hero cross his arms?

So how can we strike the balance between tmi and colorless drivel?

For starters, get rid of as many “he said,” “she said,” statements as possible. Most of the time, they are completely unnecessary. If you’ve got two people conversing, we expect there to be a back and forth banter.

For example:

“Did you go to the game last night,” Jenna asked.

“No. I had homework,” Mariah replied.

“Oh, that’s a bummer. I guess you never got to talk to David then,” Jenna answered.

Can be changed to:

“Did you go to the game last night?” Jenna closed her locker and turned to Mariah. (See, now we know who the players are. Additional attributes are unnecessary.)

“No, I had homework.”

“Oh, that’s a bummer. I guess you never got to talk to David then.”

Doesn’t the second version flow better?

And what about all those, “he wondered,” “he thought,” “he felt” statements? They shatter the fantasy world I’ve created in my mind and remind me that I’m reading a story about Joe Bloe.

But my biggest, biggest, biggest pet-peeve is being spoon fed a conclusion when I could be given a visual or physical description that allows me to draw my own.

Example:

“She was frustrated by his response.”

Yuck!

How about:

“The muscles in the back of her neck tightened.”

Or,

“She rolled her eyes.”

Whatever. Just please, please, please don’t tell me how your heroine’s feeling. Let me feel it with them.

If you want to create engaging, believable characters that plunge your reader into the story, you need to spend time analyzing yourself. And you thought your manic-to-breakdown episodes were a waste of time. Au, contraire mon frere. There’s nothing like a healthy dose of depression to help you tap into your characters inner demons.

Maybe I’m just weird–okay, yeah I am–but nearly every thought and emotion I have triggers some sort of physiological response. Frustration makes my muscles tense. Sometimes it will even quicken my pulse or raise my body temperature. If delayed, it will give me a headache. Normally the headache will begin behind one eye, or at the base of my skull. As the tension increases, so does the pain, until everything else is muted beneath a throbbing migraine.

And when I’m scared? I’ll feel it in my legs. Yep, my legs. Although I don’t always put that in my stories. It’s probably a bit unique, although as I think about our physiological response to fear, I’m not so sure. Our heart races, our blood vessels expand, and energy-increasing chemicals zap our nerves into full-alert mode.

And I could go on all day talking about all the muscle-constricting or muscle-relaxing, vision-blurring or vision-narrowing, physiological responses I have to emotions, but you’d do better to study your own. Then, the next time you’re tempted to say, “She was frightened,” “His response angered him,” or “She felt like…” stop and tap into the deep recesses of your mind, recalling a time when you’ve experienced a similar emotion. Then relive the emotion through your character. Your reader will thank you for it.

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Okay, so that peaceful, languid living I talked about a few days ago is long forgotten–as I knew it would be once school started again. And as my schedule balloons, I’m having to move more and more things to the back burner. Unfortunately, most of my choices at this point are reactive rather than pro-active. I begin my day as I would any other, only to realize come nine or ten o’clock that half of the things on my list remain undone. And often the things I should have done first–like reading my school books or taking care of the household chores–are neglected.

There are three reasons for this. First, I over-estimate my time and underestimate the project. Second, I don’t have enough cushion scheduled in my day. Third, I have allowed non-essentials to crowd out the essentials. These three critical weaknesses work together to create an overall sense of chaos, and exhaustion.

My first tendency, to overestimate myself and underestimate the project, will take careful consideration and planning to overcome. And perhaps a little bit of focus. I’m sure my reviews and critiques would get done much quicker if I’d stay on task. Which means I need to ignore that little pop-up window alerting me to a new email message. And instead of cramming each minute of my day to the full, I need to intentionally schedule slack time–especially for the afternoon and early evening. To help my daughter with homework, or to iron the pair of pants my husband absolutely must wear the next day, whatever. And finally, I need to do a schedule-otomy. With prayerful analysis, I need to weed out the non-essentials in order to make room for the vital.

Sometimes this can be difficult, and rather confusing. There are so many good things vying for our attention. Ministries, organizations, and community programs need volunteers. Fellow brothers and sisters in Christ need help and chores need to be attended to. But somehow, I need to learn to strike a balance between them. Which means, occasionally I have to say no.

I’ve been focusing a lot on Acts 20:24 lately. As Paul was about to leave for Jerusalem, he said, “However, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me–…” Paul knew his purpose and zeroed in on it with single-minded determination. And it’s time I did the same.

With so many very good, even Christ-centered, opportunities vying for our attention, it can be hard to know which ones to focus on. Placing things in a “priority hierarchy” helps. The familiar, God first, family second, then others, is a great “big picture” beginning, but even this needs to be narrowed down further. Too many activities and opportunities fall under the “God” category. Especially for inspirational authors. With your email accounts (some of us have three. uh-hem.) lighting up with one opportunity after another, how do you choose? In my opinion, you focus on your local church first then extend outward as time allows.

This can be hard for Christian writers. We’ve all heard of the importance–necessity, rather–of developing a platform or online/national presence. But God isn’t interested in your platform. He’s focused on His kingdom, and building and strengthening the body of Christ.

A few months ago I happened across an author’s blog talking about this very thing. The woman said she was so busy with her writing she didn’t have time to serve in her local body. And she said her pastor “understood” this. Although it really isn’t my place to judge, that kind of thinking seems unbiblical. When I read the Bible, I don’t see very many, if any, lone rangers forging their own way. What I do see are believers working within a local community to expand the kingdom of God.

So how about you? What “good” things can you eliminate from your schedule in order to make time for something better?

How often do you get distracted during a task and what are some steps you can take to re-focus?

How balanced are your priorities? Are you “blooming where planted” or “forging your own way”?

Is there enough flex time to allow for that quality time with your spouse, extra errand for you child, or kind word to a neighbor?

Do you have any tips to share with us? When your schedule gets out of control, what do you do to reel it back in?

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This morning I received an email that came across the American Christian Fiction Writers‘ loop asking for help for a particular scene. Basically, information needed to be conveyed, but the author didn’t want to comatose her readers in the process. I’ve seen this happen time and time again. A passage, sometimes even an entire chapter, will be jam-packed with one eye-blurring detail after another without even the hint of conflict. It’s a self-defeating situation, really.  The information, as important as the author thought it was, is ignored. If the reader is anything like me, they’ll graze through the monotonous, skimming ahead until they get to the good stuff–the drama.

About a week ago I critiqued a romance story. It was your typical girl meets boy, girl likes boy, boy likes girl plot. It was a lovely Hallmark scenario full of sunshine, flowers, picnics, and plans for romantic dates. And it bored me to tears!

So I put my computer down and escaped to my basement for a run before completing the rest of my to-do list. Which would bore you to tears should I record it here. Unless I shared just a smidgeon of all the inner turmoil that occurred while doing the mundane. Either I am the only emotional wreck out there, or we are all plagued by our inner demons. We live in a sinful world, after all. And life is full of conflict. In that hour alone while I stared at the cement wall, the belt spinning beneath my steadily pounding feet, my mind raged. As I watched the miles slowly increase, I thought about all the things I had to get done. This opened the door for false expectations, both of myself and others. Then of course, there was the gentle tug of the Holy Spirit calling me to surrender, to fight against my anxious, fretting, sinful nature so I could rest in His grace. As you can see, my potentially boring run was filled with emotional conflict.

Think about your typical day. The phone rings. You glance at the caller ID. It’s your best friend. You want to answer it, but you have a long list of things to get done before your husband gets home. Perhaps painful memories surface–of when your husband pushed you aside, or of a time when you’re friend let you down when you needed her most.

Or maybe it’s dinner time. You’ve cooked steak because it’s your husband’s favorite, but as you eat, your eyes drift to your steadily expanding stomach and insecurities surface. As your mind dwells on the ten pounds you’ve gained over the past year, your perception becomes twisted. Is your husband staring at you? Does he think you eat to much? So you react, only your husband wasn’t thinking of you at all. He was deep in his own world of inner demons and insecurities. And viola’! You have conflict.

Everything we do is tainted by the baggage we carry. The same is true for our characters. The next time a boring scene threatens, dig deeper. Remind yourself of your character’s inner demons and insecurities. How would those demons rear their ugly heads in the current situation. That doesn’t necessarily mean your characters will throw a fit. Perhaps they will hide behind a painted smile, but their mind will rage. Because the human mind always does.

And if you don’t know your character’s inner demons and reality-distorting insecurities, then set your computer aside until you do.

Confused? Maybe this article will help: Conflict found on “Learn the Elements of a Novel” website.

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I’m not sure when this started or where it came from, but somehow, over the years, my view of obedience has become tainted. I’ve heard so much about open and closed doors and letting go and letting God that I’ve developed this idea that obedience is going to be easy. And successful. But when I read the Bible, that’s not what I see. Look at how many doors Moses had slammed in his face. His own people opposed him, Pharaoh ridiculed him, and the harder Moses pushed, the worse things became. At least initially. And what about Joshua and his encounter with Jericho? He didn’t just have a closed door. He had an entire, seemingly impenetrable, wall standing in his way. Then there’s the prophet Elijah. His life wasn’t exactly a bed of roses. At times, he even thought his work was pointless. But he kept on. As did Isaiah, John the Baptist, Stephen, and Paul, just to name a few.

Paul has become the super hero of Christianity. We like to talk about all the great things he did for Christ, about all the churches he planted, and how faithfully he suffered for God. But if we really stop and study his life, we won’t see very many open doors. That’s not to say his work didn’t produce amazing results. What I’m saying is his road to obedience wasn’t this peaceful, well-paved, flower-lined path we’d like to see in our own lives. It was fraught with intense, life-threatening obstacles at every turn. Hop on over to Acts and tell me you don’t see all the heavily fastened dead bolts–prison, beating, slander, ridicule. (Pay special attention to Acts 20:22-28) Paul didn’t wait for a nice, wide, open door. He looked for those tiny cracks then worked, with God’s leading, to wiggle himself in. Not because he was forging his own way with single-minded stubbornness, but because he knew-knew-knew God’s will and focused on obedience with unwavering determination. Walking with intentional blinders on, he kept his eyes on his Savior and not the obstacles all around him.

About ten years ago the church my husband and I belonged to held a vision summit and I was invited. I don’t remember what it was called, but basically, it was a time to listen to God, determine your unique calling, and zero in on the barriers you allowed to get in the way of obedience. The seminar’s focus Bible passage was the story of Joshua and Jericho. The question they asked: What is your Jericho?

It was an amazing experience! And while I was there, I grew increasingly excited about the idea of doing a community Easter event. It struck me as odd that we had a halloween event (as a community outreach) but did nothing community oriented for the biggest holiday in the Christian faith–the one time of year where people actually expect to hear the gospel. So I went to the children’s staff bubbling with excitement. And I had a plan. A big plan, but a plan. What if we had an Easter egg hunt, along with a drama, at a local park.

Slam went the door. “No, that won’t work. We’ve never done that before.”

Woah, wait a minute. You just invited me to an event focused on identifying my Jericho, and you’re adding another brick to the wall?

So I kept talking, and nudging, and praying. (I was way too spiritually immature to see the initial no as a closed door. grin.)

The result? That first year, we had our Easter party at one of the busiest parks in Rancho Cucamonga, California. If I remember correctly, 150 children participated, and many more meandered towards the side-lines. Other adults sat along the outer edges of the stage area to watch the youth perform a drama then later, listen to an easter bunny tell the gospel. And I was swamped with help. We had a craft team, a game team, live music and oodles of bright-eyed, giggling children connecting the name Jesus with love, fun, and community. It was so successful, we did it again the following year.

I’m not saying that closed doors don’t exist or that we shouldn’t pause for re-evaluation every once in awhile. What I am saying is if you know in your heart of hearts God is calling you to do something, don’t let anything get in they way. And don’t expect the obedience journey to be easy. When doubts and obstacles arise, put your blinders on and withdraw within, closing off everything else until that still, small voice shines through. Then, once God has confirmed or perhaps reaffirmed your route, walk forward in confidence.

Some questions to ponder:

1) What’s your Jericho?

2) How determined are you to fulfilling God’s plan for your life?

3) When in the past have you been quick to jump on the “closed door” bandwagon and what was the result?

And now listen to this song and remember, God’s not asking you to change the world. He’s just asking you to obey. The results are up to Him.

Ginny Owens–I am (By the way, Ginny Owens is blind. Imagine all the obstacles and closed doors she had to overcome through out her life to create this beautiful song.)

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Yesterday I was frustrated with my husband for getting distracted mid-conversation. Here we were talking–about something I found absolutely fascinating, by the way–and the next thing I know he’s halfway through an email. This really irritated my self-righteous side…until I remembered all the times I’ve done this to God.

It’s downright embarrassing how focused I can be writing or reading a book, yet how scattered I am when I try to pray. The minute I get started, it’s like an extra dose of caffeine is injected into my brain and suddenly everything I’ve put off for months absolutely needs to get done. I jump from one thing to the next, totally oblivious to the Divine conversation I was initially involved in.  I’ll be halfway through task three before I remember, “Oh, we’re you praying?” Then I’ll try again, and again, only to wind up elbow deep in the laundry basket ten minutes later.

Luckily God knows this about me, and loves me anyway. But because prayer is a vital part of who I am and the glue that cements my heart to the heart of my Savior, He is determined to help me stay focused on Him. Ah, focus. What a lovely, yet seemingly unattainable word! And I blame modern technology for my ever-bouncing thoughts. (Sorry, computer/fb/twitter/instant messaging geeks.) Staring at my computer screen day after day with my facebook account pulled up in one window, my email in another, along with a few word documents I’m working on, my phone set on alert, buzzing each time a new message comes in, my attention span is slowly waning. My brain waves have weakened and it’s time I whip them back into shape. And just like any other training, it’s gonna take a little sweat and determination to do it. A lifetime worth of determination, because as Francis Chan so wisely points out in his book, Crazy Love, whatever isn’t swimming upstream gets carried downstream. Whatever isn’t moving forward is sliding back.

Anyone who’s spent any time at a gym understand this. It always amazes me how hard it is to get in shape, yet how easy it is to get out of it. I’ve been running for about twenty-four years now. About three months ago, I could run eleven miles in an hour and a half; six miles in forty-eight minutes. But after completing a triathlon in May, I got lazy. My long runs were too time consuming, my hill training was swapped for a treadmill, and instead of pushing myself to that next level, when I got tired I just slowed it down a notch. And once I started slipping down the slope, the slide grew easier and the climb upward less appealing. The phrase, “I’ll run tomorrow” was on instant replay in my brain, until one day I went to run and found, in a relatively short period of time, my pace had slowed a full minute per mile and my endurance had been slashed in half. So now I’m back at square one, plodding and pushing one mile at a time until I regain what couch-sitting zapped. I need to rebuild my endurance.

I think it’s the same with our prayer time. We can’t expect to be able to dive into an hour long, passionate, two-way conversation with God if we’re accustomed to shout-out prayers. We’ve got to train ourselves, and our brains, how to connect with God and stay connected. And just like any other exercise, training works best when it becomes habit. As we increase the good habits, like staying focused, the bad habits, like losing focus, will wane.

Although my mind will probably always have the tendency to drift, there are certain things that have helped me to stay connected with God:

1. I have a regularly scheduled (yep, scheduled) Bible reading time and prayer time.

I know many do this as one activity. I’m so consumed with myself, I need an extra dose of God halfway through the day. I start my day with a cup of coffee and my Bible, then around two o’clock, I set aside an hour for praise and prayer. The two o’clock “appointment” started once my daughter began to go to school. I was spending so much time sitting in the pick-up line, I thought perhaps I could kill two birds with one stone. I began to use that time to pray and connect with God, and it became such a sweet experience, the results of which trickled into the rest of my day, I carried this practice into my summer and then into the following year. This has become my “date-time”, a special time between me and God. And in the summer when my schedule gets weird and two o’clock is no longer clearly defined, God tugs on my heart, reminding me of our time just like a doting husband would.

2. I use a visual prompt.

Perhaps I’m one of those visual learners (Give me a textbook over a lecture any day!) but I’ve found if I write down prayer prompts on a three-by-five card, it’s much easier to stay focused. And when I lose focus (which I’m sure to do, visual prompts or not), having a list makes it easier to refocus and pick up where I left off.

3. I pray in a way that works for me.

Most of the time, I like to pray out loud. And I like to move while I do it. My best, most intimate, prayer times have been on the treadmill. It’s almost like there’s a direct correlation between how fast my heart rate is to how close I feel to God. It probably has something to do with the ADHD, OCD in me. My daughter finds it amusing–especially when songs find their way into my prayer time. Although, driving down the road looking like you’re talking to yourself isn’t exactly a pride booster, but I’m learning how to talk with little lip movement.

4. I ask God for help.

We both know I’m easily distracted, so there’s no sense denying it. Nor should I settle for spiritual mediocracy. Instead, I openly acknowledge my areas of weakness and ask God to intervene. Sometimes I’ll have to pray for His help multiple times through out my prayer time. Every time I get distracted, I apologize and ask God to redirect me. Not because I’m following a daily to do list but because I know how much I need this time. I’ve seen how differently my day looks when I’m connecting with God.

So what about you? How do you tame your drifting mind? And how does habit play into that?

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The other day I was talking to my husband about what a wonderful, peaceful summer I have had. It wasn’t that I sat around all day, it was the fact that what I did was on my time. No (or relatively few) deadlines boxing me in, no jam-packed must-do-lists dominating my schedule. Nothing but day after day of opportunities with ample time to grab the ones that appeared most appealing. It’s funny how much stress can be eliminated if you get rid of the “have-to’s”.

My husband had to remind me, of course, that my peace was temporary. Come fall (which will hit me head on tomorrow), my schedule will once again be jam-packed and I’ll be chasing the clock, cramming as many things into my day as possible. And if I can do two or three, or even four, things at once, even better. Just thinking about it gives me high-blood pressure, but what stresses me out most of all is not my upcoming schedule and commitments, but the possibility that I will get so distracted with the here and now that I’ll lose sight of my life-line. Because without a consistent and continual connection with the Holy Spirit, I’ll come crashing down faster than a torpedo. (Unfortunately, I’ve learned this from experience.)

And I think God is trying to warn me of this very thing. Because He knows how much I need Him–for sanity sake. Everything feels so much easier when my heart is connected to God. It’s easy to get caught up in my to-do list, allowing the day-to-day circumstances to dictate how I spend my time. But God has a better plan. He doesn’t want me chasing my tail–He wants me chasing Him, allowing Him to take care of the rest. If I would but take the time to listen. So now, knowing that I’m easily distractible, easily overwhelmed, and blinded by the here and now, I’m asking God to intervene. To grab hold of my heart, drawing me closer to Him day by day, moment by moment, grounding me in the center of His will. (Perhaps a bottle of super glue would help.)

I always find it amusing–or perhaps convicting is the better word–when I hear the same thing from multiple sources. It’s like God knows His message is gonna get jumbled between my ears so He’ll tell me in multiple ways at various times until it finally settles into my heart. Knowing how busy my schedule is about to become, I have been sharing my concerns with God, asking Him to help me stay centered in Him. And day by day, He has been answering that prayer, through books, sermons, and songs.

A few days ago, a friend mailed me Francis Chan’s latest book, The Forgotten God. In a nutshell, it’s about relying on and connecting with the Holy Spirit. (It’s hard to connect with God when you’re living off of shout-out prayers.) As I read, I was reminded afresh of my deep need for God and my tendency to allow the mundane to crowd Him out. But having spent the summer resting in His hands, feeling His love pour through me, I am unwilling to return to that place of hurried distraction. And yet, I know without God’s miraculous intervention, come September, I’ll be pulling my hair out chasing after yet another to-do list.

So I set the book down, turned on some Christian music, and closed my eyes, allowing God’s presence to fill me. And I asked for help.

About two hours later, help came in the form of a sermon. (Funny how that works.) I hope my church will put up a podcast so that I can link to it. It was a great message and the start of a great series entitled, “Finding Balance”. Our pastor gave tips on how to take control of your life and your schedule so that it doesn’t take control of you. For the most part, it came down to prioritizing and intentional living. If I really love God like I say I do, if I really believe that He is in control and that He guides my steps, then I will not allow other things to crowd Him out. I’ll guard my quiet times even if it means leaving something else undone. And to a large extent, that comes down to faith and trust. Do I really believe that God is working everything out for my good? Do I really believe He is in control? Or is that just a cute phrase that’s easy to say on Sunday morning but quickly forgotten when deadlines loom?

Today I’m making the choice to trust God not only with my salvation but also with my schedule. I will trust that if I put Him first, He will take care of the rest, believing that whatever doesn’t get taken care of must not have been as crucial as I thought it was. And when that frantic, distracted, and quite frankly, irrational, side of me wants to press to the surface, telling me I don’t have time to stop and pray, I’ll repeat one of my favorite phrases in the Bible, spoken by Jesus Himself: Luke 10:42 “but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken from her.” Only I like to personalize it. “I will choose what is better, and it will not be taken from me.”

Read the whole passage here and then ask God to show you, day by day, moment by moment, what is the “better” God wants to give you. Then ask Him what you have allowed to get in the way.

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Our church, and a few of my fb friends, are reading through the New Testament in six months, and today’s reading was the passage covering the crucifixion.  I think we tend to glaze over this story. We’ve heard it so many times, it no longer affects us. And yet, if we were to stop and ponder what Jesus Christ’s death was like, for Him and those who loved Him dearly, it’d break our hearts. And maybe that’s why we don’t always grasp it as often as perhaps we should–the understanding of that kind of love, and our total unworthiness of it, breaks us. One of my favorite songs is From the Inside Out by Hillsong. The opening verse is my life story set to music:

“A thousand times I’ve failed, yet Your mercy remains. Should I stumble again, still I’m caught in Your grace. Everylasting. Your light shines when all else fades. Never-ending. Your glory goes beyond all praise.”

I’ve failed God more times than I can count. I’ve thrown fits, I’ve rebelled, I’ve been so consumed with self my prayers sounded like a toddler wish-list, and yet through it all, God has remained. And the minute I turn around, I find myself surrounded in His arms. He is only a repentance away.

In the passage we read today, Peter, one of Jesus’ close disciples and dear friends, denies Him. Not once, but three times. Peter, the same man who only a few paragraphs earlier tells Jesus that he is ready and willing to die for Him. And yet, when the time comes and Jesus is facing His death, everyone scatters. They are faithless, and yet, Jesus remains faithful. Peter’s denial does not dissuade God’s love. (Luke 22:54-22:62) Nor was Jesus surprised by Peter’s unfaithfulness.

In Luke 22:31 Jesus tells Peter what he is about to do and lets him know that He wants to use him anyway.

Luke 22:31 “Simon, Simon (his name was Simon Peter), Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith will not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers….I tell you, Peter, before the rooster crows today, you will deny three times that you know Me.”

Jesus prayed that Simon Peter’s faith would not fail. That he would not allow his sin to remain a permanent barrier between them. That Simon Peter would turn back, repent, with a focus on the future. I’ve heard it said that Godly repentance draws you closer to God, guilt draws you farther from Him. Christianity isn’t about beating yourself up for all your failures. And it isn’t about following a bunch of rules in an effort to be good enough. It’s about opening your heart up to the one who loves you more than the human mind can comprehend and allowing Him to remove all the baggage that gets in they way of you experiencing His love.

Wanna join us as we continue to read through the New Testament? If you don’t have a Bible, you can read it online at Bible Gateway. We’d love to have you.

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Okay, so I’m a day late on this, but yesterday was my daughter’s thirteenth birthday party, so cut me some slack.

I just recently started reading what I would term a suspense thriller. And although it’s jam-packed with problems–conspiracy theories, whistle-blowing, threats of nuclear war, a hint of romance–it didn’t grab me until around page 90. Other books, like Vannetta Chapman’s A Simple Amish Christmas, or Stephanie Gallentine’s Refuge, hooked me almost from page one. So what was it about these books that drew me in while this other one sent my mind adrift? I think the answer lies in characterization. In Vannetta Chapman’s Amish romance, there weren’t any exploding cars, smoking guns, or raging tornadoes–okay, so maybe there were a few hail-producing storms, the emotional kind anyway. But in both of the novels, what hooked me was not the outer conflict so much as the inner turmoil the outer conflict revealed.

So I guess it all boils down to effective characterization. How does the conflict affect your character? How does it stand in the way of their ultimate goal? In my latest novel, Impossible Choices, Alice Goddard’s ultimate goal is to gain love and acceptance. This is her driving need, and it colors everything she does. It taints her perceptions and wreaks havoc on her rationale.

And Trent, her husband? He aches for success, because in gaining it, he will finally find value in himself. Or so he thinks, but in his attempt to slay the dragon lurking within, (Plato reference, here.) he becomes what he fears the most. In his mind, he is the provider, Alice’s knight in shining armor.  And this desire, the desire to perform and provide, colors all he does. It’s what drives him to the poker table. Everything hinges on that next big win, that next promotion, that winning campaign.

And what about their inner demons? Like Alice trying to be that perfect daughter, to fulfill that image of womanhood that has been ingrained in her since she was old enough to talk, and Trent trying to fill the deep void his father’s alcoholism created? And what about their spiritual needs? Their insecurities, fears, phobias? All of my characters, even the minor ones, have enough emotional baggage to fill an entire library worth of books. But because the typical women’s fiction novel only has around 80,000 to 100,000 words, I must choose the action, and responses, that propel my story further, leaving the other baggage for another day. And another book. (Book number two. grin.)

Think about your own life–the things that annoy you, hurt you, anger you, or bring you anxiety. I would suspect that most of your reactions have little to do with the actual event and more to do with your interpretation of the event. And your interpretation is often largely due to the emotional baggage you carry. If you are apprehensive about going to the gym, that is likely due to insecurities based on appearance. Or perhaps a faulty body image. If you are frustrated by your children’s mess left all over the house, this may be due to an overall feeling of being taken for granted. When a commercial makes you cry, it’s probably evoked a memory or exposed a longing.

To write a great story, we need to know our characters deeply. And as they interact with one another and deal with the storms that come their way, each scene should reveal one more piece of their psyche. Not in words: “She has always longed for her mother’s approval.”

But in action:

“She straightened her shirt, tucked her hair behind her ears, and rang the doorbell. Her stomach fluttered at the sound of approaching footsteps. A moment later, her mother opened the door. As usual, her hair was swept back in a french roll and her lips, which curved slightly into an appropriate smile, were painted to match her long fingernails.

“Jane, what a surprise.” Her eyes darkened as her gaze swept over Jane.

Jane tugged on the hem of her blouse and looked past her.

Okay, so I’m not going to write an entire scene here, but truthfully, it often takes an entire scene, an entire book, really, to accurately portray a character. But the scenes used should also propel your story forward. Characterization and plot development go hand in hand. Your story should revolve around your character and your character must react, on an emotional level, to the story.

Some great questions to ask while developing your characters:

What is (your character) most afraid of?

What do they long for most?

What was their childhood like?

What was their relationship with their parents like?

What was the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to them and why was this embarrassing?

Where are they most comfortable?

How do they relax?

What situations cause them anxiety?

What types of clothes might they wear? Do they wear make-up? How much time do they spend on their hair? Do they paint their nails? For males: shave regularly or sporadically? Wear cologne? Frequently wear dirty/stained clothes. lol

Are they spontaneous or do they plan ahead?

Are they risk-takers or are they more cautious and analytical?

Neat and tidy or messy?

(These are just starters.)

I like to visit various psychology sites when I’m developing my characters. Here’s two of my favorites: Personality Pathways and HumanMetrics.

Then, once I’ve uncovered my characters’ basic personality traits, I get more specific and research that trait more fully and whatever quirks they have. For example, Trent Goddard is a risk-taker. Once I’ve determined that, I visit other sites like Psychology Today to find out more about risk-takers. Then, as I write various scenes, I ask myself: “How would a risk taker drive?”  “What would a risk-taker’s dialogue sound like?”, ect.

And, because Trent’s an alcoholic gambler, I spent a fair amount of time watching “Intervention”. I also visited numerous gambling and alcoholism-recovery chat rooms and websites. Because Alice, his wife, is an enabler, I visited Al-Anon and other similar sites. What I learned both created scenes and deepened them. Although, much to my husband’s chagrin, it also created rooms worth of post-it notes, scribbled sheets of paper, google-image print-outs, and partially filled spiral notebooks. And just when I thought I was ready to clear away the clutter, book number two invaded my mind, quickly spilling over into the office.