Belief vs. Knowing

You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder.

James 2:19, NIV

If you were a child in the ’80’s, you might remember a cartoon called G.I. Joe. I used to watch it most every afternoon with my father. Every episode ended with a little life lesson and the phrase, “And knowing is half the battle!” That came to mind earlier this month after a Facebook conversation with a cousin.

You see, our uncle is ill. He is in his mid-seventies, has cancer, heart problems, diabetes…. The doctors are not giving much hope at the moment. I asked for prayers for him on Facebook and commented that he doesn’t have a relationship with Christ. My cousin made sure to tell me that his family and her family and the family of another aunt all believe in God.

“Great,” I wanted to say. “Believing is a wonderful thing. But that doesn’t mean you have a relationship with Him.”

If belief meant relationship, wow! I’d not be married to the man I am today. I mean, I believe that Jordan Knight and Nick Lachey exist. Doesn’t mean that I know them, let alone have a relationship with them.

Believing in God is half the battle. It is what one does with that belief that makes a difference.

For years, I believed in God. Every now and again, I even prayed to him—mostly when I wanted something. I guess I kind of viewed God as a fast-food drive-thru—there if I wanted a quick pick-me-up, but not something that I needed to deal with daily. I believed in God, but I can’t say that I knew Him. For years, I thought believing was enough. But I always felt more than just a little empty.

I can’t say that I know God as well as I would like to. I certainly do not know Him as well as He knows me. Sometimes, I wish He didn’t know me nearly so well! Sometimes I can’t help but think that God must look at me and actually feel sorry that He allowed His Son to die in my place. Yet it is because I know Him that I can say I am not a disappointment to Him. God sees what I will one day be, not what I am now. And because He knows the plans He has for my future (Jeremiah 29:11 says so!), it gives Him the patience to guide me to where He needs me to be.

Believing in God is a great start. Knowing He is real is an awesome second step. But believing and knowing are not enough. It is the relationship with Him that matters. It is my prayer that Uncle Bob, Aunt Cookie, and my cousins all have a relationship with Christ. And if they don’t, I pray that they will allow Him into their hearts and lives.

Apology to My Mom

There is nothing like being a mother to make a woman sorry for every rude comment and disrespectful act she ever aimed at her own mother.

Saturday evening, my husband’s family gathered at our house to celebrate Christmas. It was a great time, but it meant a lot of preparation. I spent Friday baking and Saturday morning cleaning the house. Of course, since they weren’t at school, the boys got to help with the cleaning. Oh, I think I went easy on them (though they may not agree!). They had the easy tasks of picking up toys and feeding the dog and emptying trash cans. As for me, I had the joy of sweeping, mopping, cleaning mirrors, and scrubbing toilets. Fun, fun, fun.

Yeah, NOT.

As I was scrubbing the bathroom, a scene from more than 15 years ago came to mind. I felt embarrassed and ashamed by the behavior I remembered. My mother may have no idea what I am talking about. Chances are, she has long since forgotten this day. Until this weekend, I had pretty much forgotten it. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. And forgetting doesn’t mean that I don’t owe Mom and apology for how I acted.

I believe it was a Saturday morning in the summer. It was probably summer of 1993 or maybe 1994. We were expecting a visit from my Uncle Jerry and probably some of his children. This uncle had been married to Aunt May, Mom’s older sister, until the day she died in 1991. By this time, he had met a new woman, Millie, who was becoming ever more important in his life. Uncle Jerry was bringing Millie that day to meet my mother. (Well, she got to meet Dad and us kids, too, but I still think the big reason for the visit was so that Mom and Millie could meet.) In preparation for the visit, we spent the morning cleaning. Mom sent me upstairs to clean the bathroom. I’d like to think she picked me for the job because she thought I would do the best job cleaning it, but it was probably to get a break from me. Cleaning and I have never been the best of friends, and I was likely being rude and mouthy to Mom while “helping” downstairs. She probably sent me to the bathroom because she hoped I would flush my bad attitude while scrubbing the toilet!

I didn’t. Instead, I muttered and grumbled and complained. So what if Mom couldn’t hear me? I wanted to get it all out of my system. One thing that I clearly remember saying was, “Why does this have to be done? I can hear it now—Millie will say, ‘Oh that Irma is such a horrible person! Did you see how dirty her toilet was?’ Like a toilet is supposed to be clean. Just think of what its job is!” To my knowledge, I was alone upstairs. Imagine my surprise when I heard the sound of a throat clearing. I turned around to see Dad standing in the doorway. If he said anything to me, I don’t remember it. I do remember the look on his face, the look that showed his disappointment. This was a big deal to Mom and she was nervous enough without having to deal with my attitude. The look on Dad’s face made me feel guilty for my rant.

But did I apologize? I don’t think so. I am quite sure I didn’t apologize to Mom. She might not even remember that day when she reads this. But that doesn’t really matter. I remember. I remember how rude I was to her, even if she didn’t know I was rude.

I am sorry, Mom. I am sorry for the bad attitude I showed that day, and on many other days during my teen years. You’ve been a great mother, the best any girl could ever hope for. Being your daughter is one of the greatest blessings in my life.

Homework Assignment

I’ve been in a battle against clinical depression for a rather long time. A particularly nasty bout showed up this past October, leading me to more frequent visits with my psychiatrist, a higher dosage of anti-depressants, and bi-weekly sessions with a counselor.

My most recent counseling session was yesterday. We talked about some issues that have come up in my marriage. My husband is NOT the reason for my depression, and I don’t want anyone to think that I am blaming him for the things that go on in my head. However, the issues in our marriage do contribute to the “down” feelings. Kathleen, my counselor, gave me a homework assignment this week. “Since you are a writer,” she said, “it should be easy for you to put your thoughts into words. I want you to think about the things you need from your husband. What things do you need from your marriage?” She wants me to write them down and share them with her at our next session, the first week of the New Year.

There are a lot of things that come to mind. Things like respect, affection, a smile after work. I don’t expect my husband to get all excited about the things that I have done during the day. I mean, chasing a toddler and potty training and grocery shopping and housework are on the mundane side of life. Yet I would like for the first words out of his mouth when he walks in the front door after work to be something other than, “you mean you didn’t do the dishes?” He doesn’t have to praise all the chores that I have accomplished, but I would like to not have the one thing I didn’t finish up be the only thing he notices.

This exercise has led me to thinking about what a man might like to get out of marriage. What things does a man want from his wife? It has to be more than just sex on demand, doesn’t it? I welcome all comments on this. Maybe that will help me learn how to be the wife my husband desires, which in turn will lead him to noticing more than just my shortcomings.

Three Tries, Three Wins!

I did it!

For the third year in a row, I not only started National Novel Writing Month, I completed the challenge. In 2007, I wrote Forsaking the Call, which went on to become my first published novel, in the month of November for the NaNoWriMo Challenge. In 2008, I completed The Ladies of Faith for NaNo. That book was published in September of this year. November 2009 brought about Shattered. I completed the 50,000 words required to “win” the challenge. I can’t say that I completely finished the novel, though. I think I probably have another 15,000 to 25,000 words until I get to the end of the book. Still, I did it! I completed the National Novel Writing Month challenge!

One reason this feels so good? A friend of mine told me when I signed up for the challenge for the first time that it is difficult to finish NaNo and that I should not be upset or disappointed if I didn’t make it. She was right—it is not an easy thing to complete. It does take a lot of planning and rearranging of schedules to get through. Any writer who wants to complete the challenge—complete a 50,000 word novel between November 1 and November 30—has to be willing to make some sacrifices. I am one of the lucky ones; I have the support of my family when I work on this challenge. Without that support, I probably would not have completed the first NaNo, let alone the third one.

But I am so glad that I did! This gave me a chance to not only chase after a dream, but to really fulfill that dream.

Oh, and in case you are interested, Shattered is scheduled for release on March 16, 2010. If I can get all the edits done by then, that is!

Christmas Giveaway

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

Oh, I love this time of year! Picking out the perfect gifts for my children, the smell of cookies and other goodies baking in the oven, the hum of the furnace, and the joyful sound of carols. And that is just a part of the fun.

My favorite part is thinking about how to celebrate the birth of Christ. I like to do something special with my kids each year, something to help them understand the real reason for Christmas. One thing we like to do is bake and decorate a special birthday cake. One year, we made a square one that looked like a gift, with green and red M&M’s as the ribbons. Last year, it was a 2-layer yellow cake with chocolate frosting and cake crumbs patted onto the sides. I don’t know yet what we will do this year. After a Christmas Eve party with my parents and sisters, we come home, sing Happy Birthday, and cute one slice of cake. That slice and a small glass of milk goes on the bookcase, right next to our Nativity scene. Sometimes, the boys put it right in the middle, for all of Bethlehem to enjoy. (A second glass of milk and a plate of carefully selected cookies and candies goes on the dining room table for “Santa”. The boys figured out last year that it was probably Daddy eating the cookies, since the plate always contains Daddy’s favorite goodies.)

I think my absolute favorite thing we have done is make our own little Prayer Chain. Everyone has made paper chains before, right? That is what we did, but with a twist. We cut strips of red and green construction paper. Each evening, from Thanksgiving until New Year’s Eve, we would take one green strip and one red strip. Prayer requests would go on one color and praises would go on the other. Then we would pray over each one and thank God for all of His gifts before linking the papers together and hanging them in the house. Each praise represented something we could think God for, something that showed the love He has for us. That seemed to really bring home to my sons what Christmas is about—the love of Christ.

What special things do you and your family do to celebrate Christmas? What are your favorite traditions? I’d love to hear from you! Leave a comment at the end of this email with one of your most treasured memories. One reader will receive an autographed copy of my novel Forsaking the Call. Winner will be chosen on December 15, so the book can be mailed out in time for Christmas.

I look forward to hearing from you!

Labeling

    Christian—adj. 1. Of Jesus Christ or His teachings. 2. Of or adhering to the religion based on the teachings of Jesus Christ

    Inspirational—adj. The act of inspiring

    Inspire—v. to fill with animating or exalting influence 2. To arouse or generate (a feeling, thought, etc.) 3. To affect with feeling, thought, etc. 4. To guide or control by divine influence.

    That little vocabulary lesson come courtesy of my little red Random House Webster’s Dictionary. It is as much for my benefit as it is for yours. Those words have been on my mind lately. A comment was made recently that the words “Christian” and “inspirational” can be interchangeable, at least when it comes to music and literature. It came up during a discussion about my writing. I call it “Christian Fiction”. A writer friend mentioned that I might reach more readers if I call it “Inspirational Fiction” instead. She said that the label “Christian” might alienate potential readers who don’t want to read about God and don’t want to be preached at. But the label “Inspirational” is more likely to make readers think uplifting and positive. She went on to say that someone not looking specifically for Christian work might pick up one of my books and be touched by what I wrote.

    Yet I am really torn. Yes, I LOVE the idea of reaching more readers. What writer wouldn’t? At the same time, I do not like the idea of compromising my beliefs and values to get those readers. Calling my work something other than Christian makes me feel like I am compromising.

    I mentioned this on Facebook this morning. Most of my FB friends have been supportive, telling me to call it what I want and let the readers decide for themselves if they are going to be offended or not. One writer friend, while still being supportive, took a slightly different approach. She said, “BUT if you don’t label it, someone who would not normally read “Christian Fiction” may read it and be inspired by your message of faith. Wouldn’t that make it all worthwhile?”

    That has really made me wonder. Would that make it worthwhile?

    I mean, sure, I want to inspire others with my work. And I do feel that every word I write was given to me by God, so all of my work has been inspired by Christ. So going by definition #4 of inspire, then my work is inspirational.

    So why does calling my work simply “inspirational” feel so wrong to me?

    Not that I am saying it is a sinful thing. That is not the wrong feeling I am talking about. It just doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like it is the appropriate definition of my work.

    I am a Christian, and I am not ashamed of that. In the book of Romans, Paul said, “That is why I am so eager to preach the gospel also to you who are at Rome. I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes: first for the Jew, then for the Gentile. For in the gospel, a righteousness from God is revealed, a righteousness that is by faith from first to last, just as it is written: ‘The righteous will live by faith’.” (Romans 1:15-17, NIV) I don’t know that I was called to preach; I was called to write. Pastor Clive often says, “You may be the only Bible some people will ever read.” In the same way, my work may be the only sermon some people ever hear. I trust that God will get that “sermon” into the hands of whoever needs to hear it, no matter what label is placed on my work.

    As for me, I have decided that I will call my work “Christian Fiction.” Will that cost me any readers? Only God knows. But it will be honoring to Him, and that is more important to me than who reads my books or how many copies I sell.

    My writer friends may well be right. The label I put on my work might alienate certain readers and offend others. Strangely I am OK with that. It’s better to risk my career by offending possible readers on earth than to risk eternity by offending my Father in Heaven.

Personal Pause

    So I went and saw my therapist yesterday. She’s real nice, though I must say that I don’t like going. I mean, if my own family doesn’t think my problems are worth discussing, why should a virtual stranger think they are?

    Anyway, she told me that she thinks John and I need to work on our communication. I need to tell him what is going on with me and let him know how I think he could help me rather than just expecting him to know what to do. She also said that I need to work on finding ways to feel good and useful that do not depend on John’s approval. I told him that and he said, “I don’t have a psychology degree, and I even told you that.”

    Somehow the discussion moved on to my monthly cycles. She asked if my periods have been regular and I admitted that I haven’t had one, really, since May. “I had one in May, spotted in June and July, and then nothing, until spotting started again last night.” Her eyes about bugged out of her head. She asked if I had talked to my family doctor about it, and I said that I had and he had run a PG test, which was negative. She then asked if I’d had night sweats or night terrors, hot flashes, or moments of forgetfulness. I laughed and said, “Only all the time.” So she suggested I call my gynecologist. She said that my symptoms sure sound a lot like menopause. I told her that I had mentioned that possibility to my family doctor and he said it was possible.

    ”So why have you not seen your gynecologist?”

    That was easy to answer. “Because I don’t want to know.”

    ”Are you planning on having more children?”

    ”Oh no,” I said with a little laugh. “I had my tubes tied after Seth was born.”

    ”Well, if you are done having children, a period is just sort of a cruel thing to have to go through, don’t you think? Wouldn’t it be nice to know that you are all done with them?”

    ”Sure,” I said. I mean, life without a period is only something I have dreamed of since I was 12 and went through my first one.

    ”Did you know that it is possible for your gynecologist to estimate by the monitoring the changes in your uterus how long you have until you are all through menopause?”

    I didn’t know that. Still, it didn’t make me want to rush out and find out.

    ”Why don’t you want to know?” she asked. “Are you afraid of something?”

    I shrugged. “Old ladies go through menopause,” I muttered. “I am 33. I don’t want to be old.”

    My therapist didn’t laugh the way I was afraid she would. She just said, “So it’s tied to your identity. You know that is not true, right? Some women go through menopause starting in their early 20’s.”

    She talked more and said that it is possible that my problems right now are not really from depression. Menopause causes a lot of hormonal changes. Those changes can affect mood. They can affect sleeping patterns, body temperature, and memory.

    ”If this is a hormonal thing,” she told me, “it doesn’t matter how often you see me or Dr. Mogerman. And it won’t matter how many times he adjusts your medication. Antidepressants help the chemical imbalance in your brain, but won’t do a thing about a hormonal imbalance.”

    Before I left her office, I promised that I would call my gynecologist. Have I done it yet? No. I plan to. At least I think I plan to. Even though every little thing she said made sense to me, I am still not sure that I want to know for sure that I am menopausal. I have three older sisters. To my knowledge, none of them have gone through the big M yet. I was the last to get married, the last to have kids. Why should I be the first one to do this?

    OK, so maybe I am being silly and petty about this. BUT I DON’T WANT TO GROW UP!!!!!! Something about menopause sounds too grown up to ever go back….

NANO HERE I COME!!!!

This year’s effort? BLINDSIDED!!!

For the third year in a row, I have decided to participate in National Novel Writers Month, NaNoWriMo or NaNo for short!  This year is extra special to me.  October was a hard month on a lot of personal levels.  NaNo is going to be a form or therapy for me this year.  I’ve already started, and I am on pace so far.  I’d like to finish at least 50,000 words by Robby’s birhtday, November 21.  Even if I am not “done”, I have promised him that I will take his birthday off.

My novel this year is called BLINDSIDED.  It is a story that I have been developing for months.  I already feel like I know these characters very well.  Still, as I write about them, they are sharing secrets I had not imagined.  I hope you enjoy the book as much as I do.

Here is a brief synopsis of BLINDSIDED–

Recent college graduate Janessa Warner has the perfect life. She has a close relationship with her mother, step-father, and half-sister. Besides that, she has a wonderful fiancee and is looking forward to her future. That all changes the night a stranger runs a red light. Janessa’s life is shattered, and she doesn’t know how to begin to pick up the pieces. She’s not even sure if she wants to put them together.

What is the big deal?

After years of seeing her books in stores and movies made from them on network TV, I recently decided to read a Danielle Steel novel. It was curiosity that led me to it. I wanted to see just how “bad” her storylines are.

I was actually surprised to see that the storyline wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was good! The book I picked up, Rogue, was actually a nice story of a divorced couple finding their way back together. Sure, there was more cussing than I would have liked. And I didn’t care for the drinking and the sex scenes (though they were not nearly as graphic as I had expected). Over all, it was an entertaining book. It could have been an amazing, unforgettable tale (especially the part where the husband finally “grows up”).

Could have been. But it wasn’t.

Even more of a surprise than the “tameness” of the book was the writing ability of Danielle Steel. Or should I say that lack of writing ability.

OK, so the woman has sold a lot of books. According to the Wikipedia entry about her, Steel has sold 550 million copies of her books, had 22 books made into TV movies, spent nearly 400 weeks at the top of the New York Times best seller list, and is the 7^th bestselling author of all time. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Danielle_Steel) Between 1973 and 2009, she wrote and published over 75 books, not counting her children’s books and non-fiction offerings. She is obviously a very successful writer, with a career many of us can only dream of.

Personally, I would prefer to eek out a meager living with one or two well-written novels than be raking in the profits of nearly one hundred poorly written ones.

OK, so maybe that isn’t fair. Maybe I just picked a bad example of her writing. Maybe the others are not as poorly written as Rogue. Obviously there is someone out there who likes them. I won’t be spending my time reading through them all, trying to find one that isn’t a dud, though.

Why do I think this is a dud? Mainly because there is one “rule” that I have always heard about writing, one thing that I strive to do—”Show, don’t tell”. In this book, I felt that Steel was telling me what she wanted me to know, not showing me. She repeatedly talks about how “flaky” Blake is and how is never around for his ex-wife and kids. She doesn’t SHOW it, though. In the scenes with Blake and the kids, he is very involved with them, and appears to be very hands-on. And as far as telling, there are so many places in the book where she just repeats the same thing over and over. It’s like she is trying to convince herself and her readers of what is happening.

Danielle Steel may be one of the most known, bestselling authors of all time. But based on just this one book, her work is not something that I want to spend my time on.

Risqué Reading

Recently, I was told that one of my novels was too risqué for a Christian resale shop to support. It is completely within the rights of the store managers to feel this way, and I respected their decision.

At least I did until I saw a shelf of Danielle Steel novels for sale in this same shop.

I’ll be honest—I had never read a Danielle Steel novel before. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a movie made from one of her books either, though I can say that I have seen the previews for them. “Risqué” seems too tame to convey what I saw in those clips and scenes. It confused me and even hurt a little that my novel about first love could be over the line, but her works could be deemed acceptable. I decided that I would read at least one of her novels for myself, just so I could compare my work and hers a little more fairly.

The novel I chose was “Rogue”.

This is the story of a man and a woman, still very much in love, who found they were not compatible in the same home. They have been divorced for I believe 5 years. She is raising their 3 children while working full time as an adolescent psychiatrist, specialization in suicidal teens (note: NOT a job I would want to tackle!!). He is a free spirit, spending his time jet-setting around the globe, purchasing homes to remodel/restore, and dating any hot young thing he meets. Throughout the book, they slowly realize how much they need each other and that no one else can make them “complete”.

It’s a harmless enough story line. In the right hands, it likely could have been a very powerful story as well. But the book is filled with sex, alcohol use, and cursing. No, the sex scenes are not graphic. They are also not between married partners. The drinking was not always confined to adults, and it seemed that the only not swearing was the 6-year-old.

Is this kind of work acceptable in a Christian resale shop because it is not labeled as “Christian literature”? Mine is. So does that mean my characters need to be perfect, following the Bible exactly, never veering off the path or taking a detour into sin? I suppose I could write that, if I really tried. But the characters would not be real. If not for the mistakes we make, there would have been no need for the death of Christ. Why would we need a Savior if we never needed to be saved?