Random Thoughts on a Hot Saturday in July

Some random observations on July 7, 2012.

The Chicago area is entering what could be the fourth consecutive day of a high temperature in the 100s. Yep. That's correct. It's a race to see which happens first. The 100 degrees or the cool front that is supposed to come through later this afternoon. As I write, it's already 93 degrees at 9:10 a.m.

High heat stresses not only humans and animals, but also plants. Yesterday, I became distracted and forgot to water my balcony plants. By early afternoon my New Guinna Impatiens had shriveled and drooped over the edges of their pot, looking like they'd met their untimely end. I raced out there and poured huge amounts of water into the dirt. A couple hours later it stood tall and proud, ready to face it's adversary (the heat). It made me think of how sometimes I feel spent and exhausted. Drained. Then I spend an hour in God's Word (the Bible) and like my plant, I am ready to face whatever confronts me, feeling strengthened and refreshed. Often times Jesus speaking of Him being living water for the soul.

Mom and me swimming in Lake Geneva

Revisiting the past through old photographs is satisfying to my emotions. Yesterday, I looked at pictures from my childhood and remembered old playmates and houses we had lived in. My pre-K years of ages 2 weeks to 5 years were idyllic and life was good. I didn't care if my parents and I lived in a teensy apartment. To me it was a castle. I was loved, sheltered, and fed. We lived in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin not far from one of the most beautiful lakes in the state, and summers were spent at the beach. I wish I could step into those photos and relive just one day, still being me today but observing it from my child's POV.

Now called The Maxwell Mansion, this mansion  was my home when I was a toddler.

Why don't we appreciate what we have when we have it? A few months back I wrote a blog post about living in a mansion during my toddler years. That post was on The Barn Door. (Note: If you read that post, my publish date for Love Finds You in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin is now April 2013.) Of course back then I had no idea of the history of that house, and I wonder if even my parents did. We lived in what was designed to be the servant's quarters. Oddly enough my dad's boss was the house's owner, but he went to work at an office. In a way he was living in quarters designed for the owner's servant, and that much hadn't changed, although he was by then called an employee. I've since learned that the man who built the house, Philip Maxwell, was one of the town's founding fathers and Maxwell Street in town was named for him. But the house was built on Baker street, another surname strongly connected to those who helped found the town.

I'm currently on the planning committee for my high school reunion. Many years have flowed under the bridge of life since we left high school. Back then we were divided into cliques. What I always find amazing is that after some years, the lines between groups began to blur until by now they have all disappeared. None of the people on the committee were my best buddies in high school, and I'm finding myself regretting I never tried to get to know them better back in the day. It's never too late to forge new friendships, even with people you knew years ago.

My church has a Saturday night service. The campus where it takes place is a good 20-30 minute's drive for me so I don't attend it often, unless I am already out somewhere. But this summer I have gone a few times, and today will be another one of those times. Last time I attended Sat. service, the next morning I took my daily walk fairly early in the morning. As I was passing a building in my condo complex, a lady who attends my church came out the front door, on her way to first service. There I was in shorts and a tee shirt and she looked at me with questions sparking from her eyes. LOL. I suddenly felt I needed to explain that I already went to church last night. It has occurred to me how many people where I live know me as a church-going woman and are used to seeing me heading to my car with Bible bag on my shoulder on Sunday mornings. If I'm out walking instead on a Sunday, do they think I'm backsliding? Do they even care?

Yesterday I found my old report cards, starting with kindergarten right up to college transcripts (minus the ones from my freshman year which I burned). The older I got, the more the teachers said I had trouble staying on task and applying myself. My chemistry teacher even called me lazy. Oops. Looking back, I think he was mistaken. I wasn't lazy, but was caught in the trap of being a right-brained person trying to learn something better suited to left-brainers. Anything to do with chemistry flew right over my head. I didn't "get" it and that probably led to my lack of interest in his subject of choice. I needed the credit and squeaked by with a C at the end of the year. Nowadays, educators are much more aware of learning styles and right-brain, left-brain issues. They have better figured out how to teach us creative types. Back then we were just lumped in like square pegs in round holes.


Right now I'm sitting here with things that need doing on this very hot day. I think writing this blog is a way of procrastinating. I'd best get busy before more time elapses and I prove my chem teacher right. I could always blame it on the heat!

Amazing Grace

Yesterday I attended the funeral of an amazing lady named Grace. From the first I knew her many years ago when I started attending my church, I knew she was special because she radiated God's presence in her life to those around her.

I didn't know her well, never visited her in her home, or spent time away with her apart from our church, yet I counted myself privileged to know her.

In fact, when I sat down to plot my first novel, I patterned a family matriarch after her. That book still resides in a file somewhere on my computer. The writing isn't what it takes to be published, but when I first wrote it, I had dreams of giving Grace a copy of the book and telling her about her counterpart in my character.

Except for our faith in Christ, Grace and I are as opposite as any two people could be. She was raised in a family that knew Christ and became a Christian at a young age. I was not and didn't come to my faith until in my 30s. She was one of many children and I am an only child. She married and had six children, 20 grands and 27 greats when she passed at age 93. I've never married and have no children. She and her family spent several years in Japan as missionaries and I have only been to Canada as a tourist.

Yesterday from the tributes given by her family members, it became very apparent that Grace was a Bible student and a prayer warrior. She loved the Bible and read it daily, going through the Word in its entirety every year. And, I'm sure as she was inspired by the Holy Spirit, prayed back those words to God. She also prayed constantly for her family. Where once she had her six children to pray for, as they married and had their own children, she had in-laws and grands to pray for as well. In the end 20 grands, and 27 greats with three more on the way! And, according to her son-in-law, she remembered each and every one of them right up to her last days. My own grandmother sometimes had trouble keeping her six grands straight, often calling us by the wrong name. I don't hold that against her, it's just that Grace was truly amazing.

Her example has challenged me!

I don't have children or grands of my own to pray for, but I do have spiritual children. Those I've led to the Lord over the years or have shepherded as their Bible study leader. And some I've only known as very good friends who are dear to me. Although I always pray for them, I admit to not praying enough. A very dear friend of mine who passed away a while ago was also a prayer warrior and I know she prayed for me regularly on her knees!

We lead such busy lives today that oft times prayer is neglected or we give it a lick and a promise, as a former roommate used to say about cleaning the house. Yet God is always there for us 24/7. He never slumbers or sleeps as Psalm 121 says. We can pray not only on our knees, but while we're doing other things. Brother Lawrence used to make the best of the drudgery of dish washing by praising God as he scrubbed away.

From this day forward, I am determined to pray more often and more deeply for those I hold dear and to let them know they are prayed for. How about you?

Life Lesson #2 - Patient Endurance

I don’t know about you, but I’ve become so used to instant gratification that it’s become almost a given. Want hot water? Pop a mugful into the microwave and nuke it. No need to fill a teakettle and wait. Need cash quickly? Drop into your local drugstore and pop your ATM card into a machine. No need to drive to the bank. Need information on a topic? Pull up a search engine such as Google and type a keyword. No need to drive to the library and pour over reference materials.

Want to sell your novel? Pull up a publisher’s website and insert your manuscript into a blank field. A minute later a contract arrives in your email. NOT!

Back in December, I came to a verse in Hebrews that jumped out at me like a Jack-In-The-Box. The New Living Translation of Hebrews 10: 35-36 goes like this:

So do not throw away this confident trust in the Lord. Remember the great reward it brings you! Patient endurance is what you need now, so that you will continue to do God’s will. Then you will receive all that he has promised.

At the time, a friend was going through an extremely rough recovery from surgery for a detached retina where he had to lay still on his stomach for weeks. The verse seemed the perfect encouragement for him. I pray that it was. As so often happens, what I first saw as something useful for someone else has turned out to be even more useful for me.

What works for wanting a quick bag of popcorn doesn’t work for book publication. And, for good reason. I mentioned the other day how I found an old manuscript I’d written. One I thought was well written when it wasn’t. Since the day I submitted that ill-fated chapter to a contest I didn’t win, I’ve endured and grown in my craft.

Have I endured my writing journey with patience? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. When I’ve exercised patience I’ve spent time reading books on writing such as “Self Editing for Fiction Writers” by Renni Browne and Dave King. That book is a must-have for any writer. Another essential is “Stein on Writing,” by Sol Stein. These are books that can be read and used over and over again. Another book I recently began, but haven’t yet finished is “Writing for the Soul” by Jerry B. Jenkins. His name has become a household word since the Left Behind series took over all the best seller lists.

When I’ve lacked patience, I’ve tended to want to jump to the chase and send out the manuscript before it's ready, have hissy-fits over hard crits, and question if I'm really supposed to be doing this.

I think the photo illustrates the principle so well. I have to wonder what these weathered hands have touched and done over the years. Probably powdered a baby's bottom back when they were more soft, stirred a spoon in many a meal for her family, and clasped countless times in prayer. Perhaps today, she is patiently enduring as she waits for word from a grown child who is too busy to remember to call her, or while she waits for a visitor to come to her door at the nursing home. What is key is that as she patiently endures in her waiting, she's doing so supported by God's Word. That is where the ability to patiently endure gets its strenth.

As I patiently endure and grow in my writing skills, God is building in me the fruit of patience. I'm not ready to toss out my microwave, but I can sure apply the principle of patience in other ways, most especially in my writing journey.