Stopped in Your Tracks by . . . a Story?

So, what stories have made a difference in your life? I mean, really grabbed you, stopped you in your tracks . . . or gave you the courage to do what seemed impossible . . . or heightened your awareness with a wider, deeper perspective?

And what about the timing? You somehow picked up just the right book or article at just the right time, in just the right place. And you wonder . . . Where would I be if I hadn't read this?

At just the right time, one story breathed courage into my spirit. One story offered hope beyond the present unknowns. One story served as a grab bar when panic and despair threatened to steal away any strength I had left. Strength I needed to navigate the uninvited trauma that invaded our lives.

Page after page, I read Gracia Burnham's book, In the Presence of My Enemies. A halo--screwed into my skull to stabilize my broken neck--kept my head from moving, forcing me to face straight ahead. Compelled to use a hard-backed chair, I sat with my elbows on the dining room table, holding the book at eye level to see the pages . . . hungry for a word from God . . . searching for a hint of grace.

Gracia Burnham's memoir does not offer soothing verse or warm, wonderful stories. Her account reveals the horrors experienced by two American Missionaries taken captive in the Philippines. For over a year they and several other hostages were forced to traipse from place to place in the jungle, barely surviving oppression from their captors and the elements. In the end, Gracia's husband was shot and killed. 

Somewhere between the lines, I discovered a rare kind of strength. I witnessed a faithful God whose awareness and care for His children make a difference in the very worst of times. There at my dining room table, I determined that if Gracia could trust God in a most horrendous chapter of her life story, I could trust Him with this fearful and uncertain chapter of my own.

The power of her story made all the difference for me then - and continues to inspire me to this day. The right story at the right time . . .

So, what stories have made a significant contribution for you?


*Excerpts from the Introduction of Penned Without Ink: Trusting God to Write Your Story, to be released September 26, available on Amazon.com in paperback and Kindle Editions.

 Book Signing

Saturday Afternoon, November 5th, 2016

Duffy's Coffee House, 306 South State Street, Clarks Summit, PA 18411

Perfect Stories?

My author friends and I love to write. When we meet together to critique each other's writing, each of us has spent long hours since our last meeting spinning story lines. But our words are far from perfect. And we often read rewrites. Why? Because a writer doesn't get it right the first time. Our first drafts sound disjointed, lacking the smooth flow of ideas and the pluck of just the right word. The key to good writing is rewriting. I've been rewriting Penned Without Ink for six years!

Unlike me--or any other author--God writes perfect stories. He is perfect. He is faultless and whole. Only God qualifies as the ultimate "author and perfecter of our faith" (Hebrews 12:2).

The events surrounding our car crash in 2003 didn't seem to me to be a "perfect story."  How does the dark side of life fit with God's perfect ways? I'd rather embrace the miracles, the healings, and the transformed relationships, wouldn't you?

Instead, problems often overwhelm us, and we struggle with disappointment, pain, and unanswered questions. Has God forgotten us?

As the years have slipped by, I'm learning that my perfect plotline has more to do with God's character than with my circumstances. More to do with His loving consistent involvement in the midst of unsettling situations than with my idea of resolution. More to do with the God who watches and weighs all that happens, even when I can't see Him.

A.W. Tozer writes, "To the child of God, there is no such thing as an accident. . . . Accidents may indeed appear to befall him and misfortune stalk his way; but . . . we cannot read the secret script of God's hidden providence . . ." (We Travel an Appointed Way, p. 1)

Long ago, King David etched this timeless truth onto parchment: "The Lord will perfect that which concerns me" (Psalm 138:8). The word perfect carries the idea of complete. Another translation puts it this way, "The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me . . ."

So, what's your story today? Are you a little discouraged? Disappointed? Apprehensive? Remember, the perfect Master Writer has committed Himself to complete His perfect work in each of us. He desires us to trust Him with our life stories because, unlike any earthbound writer, God writes perfect stories . . . even when they take place in the fog on the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

*Excerpts from Chapter Two, Penned Without Ink: Trusting God to Write Your Story.

Penned Without Ink, to be released September 26, is available in paperback or Kindle on amazon.

Photos from bing.com/images

Your Life Story . . . Penned Without Ink

Story.

Life story.

Your life story.

We each have a story. In fact, we each are a story - penned without ink - known and read by the people around us. While the main characters wander in and out of our paragraphs, the plot thickens with tension and misgivings and relaxes with humor and celebration. We all hope for a satisfying conclusion.

So, what's going on in the current chapter of your story? In what season of life do you find yourself? Does the fall represent a new beginning as flexible summer days give way to predictable routines? Are you looking forward to new opportunities or do you find yourself grappling with loss and grief? What's unique about this time in your life - both the pros and the cons?

Today marks the first day of a brand new chapter for me. 

My youngest is beginning a new chapter in her life, too . . . on a college campus. Which means . . . my house is a little too quiet, a little too empty, a little too solitary. Elisabeth's in a healthy environment where she will learn far more than if she were home. But that ache in my heart, as I left the flat farmlands of the mid-west, made the roadway blurry as I wiped away the tears for an hour after crossing the Pennsylvania state line yesterday.

Perhaps, in the transitions of life we experience both gains and losses. In a day-to-day sense, I have lost my daughter's companionship yet have gained the freedom to come and go, serve and write as seems best to me. Just the opposite of when we welcomed our girls into the world. We gained the wonderful privilege of parenthood and relinquished a few freedoms in the process.

Whatever this new chapter holds for me, I want to do it well. Don't you feel the same way? My friend, Gail, sent a short note, which read, "I'm praying your sense of hearing will be so sharpened that you'll hear God's presence in the quiet." Ironically, I have been praying a similar prayer the last few days.

 

Wherever we find ourselves in our life stories, let's remember God's faithful presence . . . in our joys, in our sorrows, and in our transitions. We take the promises of God with us into each new chapter and into each new day. 

Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you. 

The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. 

Hebrews 13:5, 6

Penned Without Ink: Trusting God to Write Your Story  

Now available on Amazon.com

To Let the World Know . . . Behind the Scenes # 7

And then there's the marketing . . .

It's one thing to practice the craft of writing over many years, to schedule time to sit down and do it, to rewrite a chapter multiple times, to read it to your critique group, to edit it again, to gather up the courage to send your manuscript off to a publisher, and wait and pray for an acceptance letter.

It's quite another thing to market it. To let the world know. To somehow persuade people to like your combination of words all nicely packaged inside a great cover and . . . to actually buy it.

I'm an introvert. I'm the child who picked mostly white strawberries so everyone else could have the red ones. I'm the young woman in the circle who thought of a contribution ten minutes after the fact. I'm the graying grandma who, like many writers, finds it more comfortable to quietly peck away at my computer than put myself out there.

Then I remember that Penned Without Ink is not about me. Yes, it's our family's story. But it's more than that. It's God's story. He's the hero! And it's His words, jotted bold on the page, that make all the difference.  

Do you ever feel like the little boy who handed Jesus his lunch? I do. Sometimes our fish and bread seem insignificant against the needs surrounding us but Jesus blesses what we bring to Him. He multiplies our offering and somehow feeds the multitudes.  

But what encourages me today is that even Jesus accepted assistance to distribute this miracle meal to the hungry. The text reads, "Then He broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples and the disciples gave them to the crowds" (Matthew 14:19).

I'm learning that it's important to accept a little help in order to offer our story of grace . . . God's story . . . to the world.

A special THANK YOU to all who are offering Penned Without Ink's message of hope to friends, relatives, and others who are hungry for a positive word, some in the midst of very challenging circumstances. 

Blessings to you all. 

More about Penned Without Ink: Trusting God to Write Your Story

Pre-orders

Can You See the Cross? Behind the Scenes 6

What a moment. 

Always excited to hear from my publisher, I eagerly opened the email, clicked on the attachment, and for the first time, viewed the cover of my book. I couldn't have been more pleased. The colors, the fog, the title, the fonts, the layout . . . It was perfect. Tears wet my cheeks. Suddenly my dream of writing a book seemed just a little closer.
 
Did you know that authors have homework? I filled out pages of information for the publisher, including my ideas for the book cover. Not having any graphic design background, I could only jot down a few ideas. It seemed to me it should reflect the first chapter without giving away the rest of the story.

At our next writers' meeting, one of the girls mentioned how clever of the artist/designer to include a cross on the cover. The room grew quiet, all eyes on the printed sample. "Where?" we finally asked, still searching. When she pointed it out, I thought of the lines in the first chapter of the book . . . "Looking back, I have to believe we were surrounded by . . . grace."

A quiet discussion followed our precious discovery. Isn't it just like us to find ourselves caught up in the fog, the potential problems, the storm, the unknown and miss the cross? To never see it? Even though it's clearly visible for those with open eyes.

The cross on the cover of Penned Without Ink holds deep meaning for me. Now it's the first thing I see. The reason? Because I'm looking for it. I pray we will view our life circumstances in the same way and look for the all-knowing, all-powerful God who never leaves us or forsakes us, no matter what happens. 

 Can you see the cross?


For a short summary of the book, click here. 

To pre-order paperback or Kindle Edition on Amazon.com, click here. 





  

Reminiscing Roommates

I circled the date on my calendar with a smile.

My roommate from college called, asking if she and her mom could stop by on their way home from New England. Needless to say, I welcomed the chance to see them again and catch up. 

Ruby Wagner Dorm

I gave the house an extra shine, ran to the grocery store so I could put together a nice lunch, and wondered if Deb had as much gray as I saw in the mirror lately. Visions of the campus and our room in Ruby Wagner Dorm that I hadn't thought of in years ran through my mind in the hours before their arrival. She had majored in Accounting and I in Religious Education. How could thirty-seven years have gone by since we graduated? 

Our time together brought out old stories. We remembered our other roommates and wondered what courses their lives had taken. We reminisced and laughed together, seeing it all from a different perspective. Interestingly enough, neither one of us could remember actually meeting even though we roomed together for three years.

As Deb backed the car out of our driveway later that afternoon to head west,  it seemed ironic to me that both she and I walk alone now. As two young girls in love and married right out of college, we never gave the possibility of "singleness" a thought. We wanted to "live happily ever after," serving the Lord. And we did--for a while.

But life doesn't always turn out the way we hope and dream. It brings its own challenges and heartaches. Yet the thing that struck me was that we were both doing okay in spite of our pain and disappointment. I saw in my friend what Eugene Peterson calls "a long obedience in the same direction," a strong faith in God and a determination not to let the hard times bring defeat.

As I washed up the lunch dishes, I thanked God for our forty-year friendship. Somehow we gather courage when we know we're not alone in our circumstances. We'll keep in touch, Deb and I . . . and I have a feeling our paths will cross more often.



 *Unlabelled photos from bing.com/images

In the Garden . . .

Aren't you glad summer's here? We savor the warmth and sunshine. We look forward to vacations and picnics. We catch up with neighbors over the back fence . . . and enjoy the beauty of flowers bordering sidewalks, along roadsides, and in various pots here and there. At the nurseries I joined the spring crowds loading up their carts with zany zinnias, shade-loving impatiens, bright geraniums, and dependable begonias. Maybe you were there, too?

Yet, for me, the real joy came in purchasing a few vegetable plants.  Last fall (October 20), I blogged about our choice to disassemble my late husband's big garden. We grieved one more loss. At the same time, we conferred with a local master gardener-friend, Susan, who helped us create a small lasagna garden in our yard. Perhaps we could still preserve Barry's legacy. 

We chose an easily accessible sunny corner and began the process with Susan's oversight. We layered leaves and hay, using recycled pavers to mark the boundary. Elisabeth carefully transplanted Barry's old fashioned roses, raspberry plants, and a clump of chives, babying them with hopes and prayers that they would make it. 

Then we waited for spring. 

Mid-May found us in the check-out line with red cabbage, lettuce, Swiss chard, cucumber, and tomato plants. We found beet and bean seeds. And Memorial Day weekend, we planted . . . Elisabeth reminding me of Barry's prior instructions. 

There's something wonderful about a garden. Every day, first thing in the morning, I find my way to our little plot. I marvel at the growth, check for more blossoms, smile at the tiny cucs, pull out the weeds while they're still small, and smell the variegated roses. I remember the man with the green thumb who gave me and our daughters an appreciation for God's good earth and its fruit.

And I realize that, difficult as it is, the change of moving forward is good. With an open mind, it brings its own treasures and joy. There's growth in the process.

So . . . if you're local and happen to be in the area, stop by and peek over our white picket fence. And remember . . . God gives us grace to begin again.