We’ve been through a lot, you and I. You’ve read from the beginning when Frankly, My Dear . . . started out as a diary of a sort of social experiment, then grew.
Blank Pages are the World’s Canvas
First I learned to crawl, then walk, and threw in with some nifty vocabulary lessons.
It’s been over four years of fun, drama, food, family, life, death, everything and nothing. And y’all have stuck with me like melted cheese on a hot spoon.
This week, my Kindle books are free. Not all at the same time, so you’ll want to check my Amazon Author Page daily. It my way of giving back for all the support y’all have given me.
Now here’s the favor. And this in no way is a tit-for-tat situation. You can take the freebies without obligation. I promise.
But it’d be awful sweet if you could leave a review of any of my books on Amazon. As a boutique, small-town, digital book publisher, my marketing consists of me passing out business cards at conferences and telling others by word of mouth.
Field of Dreams
If you’ve read something that’s touched you, made a recipe that brought your family together, or enjoyed some quiet time while reading one or more of my books, I’d sure appreciate the shout-out.
If you have any suggestions on how to make them better, a question or a thought on something that just doesn’t sit right, well I’d welcome that feedback, too.
I hope to continue this journey with you, and prove myself trustworthy of the time you’re taking to spread the word about my books.
For Nathan and Pam and Naomi and Lori and Cindy and all my Marys and Beckies and everyone I’ve been talking to. I hope you know how each of you has helped me. I hope I’ve been able to return that help.
God – December 8, 2014
A few days ago, I posted a lengthy status on my personal Facebook page. Since then, people have commented, sent messages, and shared.
It’s no secret where I stand in my faith. I’m not a Bible thumper. I’m not perfect. In fact, I revel in my imperfectness. I’m just glad there’s a God who loves me the way I am, and who continues to help me be a better person for the world around me.
“Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”
~2 Corinthians 12:7b-9, NIV
Let’s face it. Life is hard. It’s hard when you know God. It’s hard when you don’t know God. This post isn’t about God. It’s about Christians and the disservice we do to one another in our own community by expecting only the Pretties to be seen, by submerging the imperfections, the thorns, the scars.
If we as Christians portray only a perfect example of God, how can draw people closer to Him? If we tell seekers “It’s okay that you’re broken” then why do we expect completeness of ourselves?
The Christian Community can send out false messages. Not intentionally, mind you. I believe our desire is to attract others to Christ, and we feel we can’t do that if we’re shattered or chipped.
I disagree.
We are all damaged. One way or another, we are all broken.
I’m okay with that.
“Stop forcing a catastrophe where there’s not even a storm.”
Because God is the True Healer. He can, has, and will continue to heal my brokenness whether it is caused by others or myself. Whether my brokenness is physical, spiritual, emotional, mental, financial, or any-other-al, He continues to seek me out and heal me.
The healing may not come in the way I want, or as fast as I think I need. But His timing is perfect. And I’m okay with waiting on Him.
Cuz Father knows best.
The following is the Facebook post from a few days ago. I hope it starts a dialogue of honesty and openness. I hope everyone has a friend who accepts them unconditionally. And if you want to know more about my God, I hope you ask.
Please read, comment, share. And watch the video at the end.
Life is hard. But God is always good.
I promise.
You Matter.
~#~
June 7, 2015
So an interesting thing happened. Late last night I posted a status (now removed) of how it’s okay that I’m angry with God. I received some comments and messages that others are praying for me, that others understand, and a few that cautioned me about being so public about it.
Here’s the thing, and I’m not upset, just puzzled . . . but here’s the thing.
Not one person asked WHY. Not one person asked, “How can I help?”
And it saddens me. Not because I need attention (although we all do, right?). Not because I feel alone (I mostly don’t). But because the impression or attitude seems to imply that as a Christian I’m not allowed to have bad days, that I should share only joy and keep the rest to myself.
And it makes me wonder, if the people I know are Christian (myself included), if we are sending out these vibes that it’s not okay to be NOT okay, how are we being authentic? How are we letting others know we’re there for them?
Do we as Christians stifle the outreach and community of those who need us? Is it possible by saying “This isn’t the time or place” that what they hear is “You’re not worth my time or energy”?
I have a lot going on. So do you. So does everyone. I don’t air my “dirty laundry” for everyone. In fact, there is not one single person who knows everything. There are some who know most, some who get headlines without details, and some who get only one story or prayer request instead of the whole basket.
I’m not advocating spilling your entire life on Facebook or other public forum. I’m not agreeing with those people who are “virtue suckers” and complain just to get attention.
But do the people who need us know we’re here for them? Do they really know?
Or have we made it too hard for them to reach out? Have we made them fearful that we won’t reach back?
Or worse, do we assume because we already know them that we know what the current moment is about? Do we pray for them, consider them, reach out to them based on past experiences?
Or do we say “I’m still praying . . .” for whatever issue WE think needs prayer.
When was the last time you came up to a friend and said, “Tell me what’s really going on.”? And didn’t fill your head with presumptions of who you think they are and what you think they’re going through?
So many of us are really going through our own hell on earth, yet we’re expected to live daily as if we’re not. So many of us are so skewed by our own hells that we can’t see someone else’s is different. We can’t see that we’re sometimes hurting instead of helping.
So I apologize, here, publicly, to all my family and friends. I’m sorry that I’ve not reached out to see where you’re at or how I can help you. I’m sorry that I put myself first — my own thoughts and ideas of how life should be, of how you’re doing it wrong, of how you’re not there for me. I’m sorry for not being there for you in the capacity I should be.
I’m sorry.
But hear this: You’re important to me. In many different ways.
Our lives are silk webs that criss-cross and intertwine and pull others into and out of the design and I want to strengthen your thread.
I want to be here for you.
I’ve ignored you, I’m sorry. I’ve made you feel less important, I’m sorry. I’ve made my own hells more important than yours, and that is farce. Everyone’s hell is important. Everyone needs a helping hand to get out and rise above the crud that tries to buries us.
This is me. Being as authentic as I’m allowed to be.
I let you down, and I’m sorry.
I’m here for you now. All of you.
All I’m asking is that you be here for me, too.
And the rest of your people.
Make sure they know.
My friend and writing mentor, Aaron Gansky, is a featured speaker and while I always value the information he gives, there are several other sessions I’m looking forward to being a part of.
This will be the second writers conference I’ve attended. Ever. This one is different from the first one I attended last November. That one was local, and there were three consecutive sessions in the same auditorium. I knew almost everyone, because it was sponsored by my Writers Club. This one requires a little drive time, there are many short sessions to choose from, and aside from Aaron and hopefully my friend Beckie, I won’t know anyone.
Molly and Beckie
Thankfully, it was easy to choose my sessions based on my experience as a writer, and my needs to grow my network. I’m choosing to focus on what will help me finish NOLA and market it as well.
And now that the fun stuff has been announced, let’s get real.
It’s intimidating to register for a writers conference. At least, it is for me. I have so many unknowns.
What if I’m not a good enough writer to be there?
What if I can’t focus and forget all the information?
What if everyone else really has a game plan for their writing, and laugh because I don’t?
What if I share my idea for my novels and learn they’re not that great?
What if the weather is bad for the drive?
What if it’s like high school and people are clique-ish and I’m left out?
What if I get star-struck and instead of being intelligent I stumble and mumble my way through meetings and greetings?
What if I spill coffee on myself and don’t bring an extra sweater to cover it up?
These are all real concerns I have.
But the one I didn’t know I had, came to light after I registered. I have been nagged with the internal question
What if I’m not good enough?
That is, not that I’m not a good enough writer. I believe I’m a good writer on my way to being a great writer.
But, what if I’m not a good enough person? What makes it okay for someone like me to attend a Christian writers conference?
Sure, I write a lot about God and trusting His plan for our lives. I live a Faith-based life. But I’m no Saint. I’m no hero. And on not-so-good days, I can be downright bad and ugly. So what makes it okay for me to attend a Christian writers conference?
The same thing that makes it okay for me to be a writer. I don’t know everything. But what I do know, I can share. I’m not Chef Bobby Flay, but I like to cook, so I share recipes. I’m not a veterinarian, but I can write about my cats. I don’t own a landscape company or live in a mansion, but I can still blog about how to keep a nice house with decorating and fix-it tips.
So what makes it okay for me to attend a Christian writers conference? I had to wrap my head around it. I would have no problem supporting anyone else who wants to go, and if they voiced these same concerns, I’d tell them
Stop. Listen to yourself. No. Don’t. Listen to God. He brought you here for a reason. You know He did. And He has a plan for you, for your writing. Nobody’s perfect and I’m not asking you be. Did you screw up something yesterday? I did, too. I always do. It’s human nature. But you know what? God forgives you. He forgave you, and He keeps forgiving you. So get out of the dark hole you created, see the Sonshine, and do what He’s calling you to do. Be a writer. You don’t have to prosthelytize all the time. It’s okay to write mysteries and fantasy. Just write. Just use the talents He gave you, and do it! Get to the conference. Meet other imperfect people who will help you hone your imperfections into great storytelling. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.
That’s what I would tell someone else. So that’s what I’m telling me. I’m not perfect, and I’m not a Bible thumper. But I am a Christian.
So I’m giving myself permission to attend a Christian writers conference.
Now here’s the neat part. Once I decided to go (after a few nudges from Beckie and Aaron), my first thought was “I can’t afford this.” Beckie and I looked at the registration schedule. We can’t go Friday night, so we would just carpool together for the Saturday sessions. It’s $135 for the day. There’s a 10% discount code available, so my cost would drop to $121.50. Not too bad when you consider everything that’s included. But it’s still more than what I want to shell out right now, especially since I’m intent on getting to Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference in North Carolina in May.
Feeling somewhat apprehensive and pre-defeated, I asked them to pray with me for direction on this. That was Saturday night.
On Tuesday morning, I received a phone message from my insurance company. They finally received full restitution from the at-fault party for an accident I was in nearly five years ago. At that time, my insurance company took care of my vehicle replacement, my medical bills, and my settlement. But because I had to go through my own policy, I wasn’t able to collect my $500 deductible. Two years later, they received a large, albeit incomplete sum, and mailed me a check for a partial amount.
As of last week, they received the final payment, and issued me a payment for the balance of my deductible.
The conference would cost me $121.50.
The insurance payment is $121.43.
How on earth am I going to find seven pennies? I’m pretty sure God is asking me to trust Him.
And that’s how I know it’s okay for me to attend a Christian writers conference.
It’s been a month since I’ve posted. I’ve never gone this long before; and I apologize. I hope you didn’t think I’d forgotten you. No, far from it. But I really have been Just.That.Busy.
I turned my focus to amplifying my Amazon Author’s Page as well as finishing The Penny Parable for eBook publication. I’ve been attending my monthly Writer’s Club meetings, and I’ve joined a critique group. Every other week, nine of us gather to review our works. We email them out a week before each meeting and go over notes and suggestions in the group. It’s quite a great experience, and if you are a serious writer I strongly suggest you find such a group.
Last weekend, the High Desert chapter of the California Writer’s Club was honored to hear Aura Imbarus speak. I was lucky enough to meet with her during the break. She is someone I want to know: She is inspirational, comical, truthful, adventurous, enduring and most of all, a writer.
Aura and MJ
Her story is captivating and thrilling. And she’s nice. She’s one of those people who make you feel you’ve been friends forever, even if you’ve just met. Her energy is just so positive! Yeah. I want to know her.
And yes, that’s me on crutches. I have no dramatic story to tell. I got into my car. I got out of my car. I couldn’t walk. Okay, it’s not quite that simple. But it is. You’ll remember I’ve been in ten car accidents and hit once as a pedestrian? Never my fault, honest. But still. A knee can only stand so much trauma before it starts to fail. And every once in a while, my knee likes to remind me. Which it did last week. Normally I can just ice it and kick back in the recliner for the weekend, but there was no way I was going to miss my Writer’s Club meeting and subsequent Christmas party. So I did the only logical thing. I hobbled into CVS and bought a pair of crutches!
You would think with my prior injury history I’d have a pair around here somewhere. Well I did for a while. But then I got cocky and figured I wouldn’t need them again, so out they went. That’ll teach me.
As each day passes, I find myself wanting more. More time. More energy. More money to do/fix/buy/go. My wish list is getting greater, yet simpler. I want to be a writer. A well accepted, published, known, respected author. I want to have a beautiful yard. A healthy, colorful, desert-enduring yard. I want to fix my house. Bedford Manor is lovely, but in need of some repairs. I want better health for me and those around me. Too many people are suffering with so much. My heart aches every day to see it.
I’m not sure what the New Year will bring. But I already have my word picked out, and I can’t wait to share it with you!
Just today a dear friend reminded me that whatever comes, whether it’s in my plans or not, it’s going to be okay. All I can do, is all I can do. She reminded me to hold firm to what I already know, which is my Faith. It was one of those Kismet things, thrown in my face from many angles. I was reminded of what I have often reminded others. That God is in control and it’s okay that I’m not. As long as I still have Faith, Hope, and Love.
Jeremiah 29:11
And someone else gave me this tidbit of wisdom a week or so ago. I asked if I could share it, and he said yes. So here’s a great thought to get you through those times that we’re all going through:
Sitting Around
And it hurts. And it feels like failure. And it doesn’t work.
So I try again. To make ends meet. To write something blockbustery. To breathe.
And it still hurts. And it looks like failure. And it doesn’t always work.
But sometimes it does.
So I keep moving. And working. And writing. And breathing.
And living.
And smiling.
Because I’m alive. And breathing. And working. And writing. And feeling.
Many years ago, when Dot was just an infant, I met a woman named Corrie. A remarkable young woman, named after another remarkable woman. My Corrie was named for Corrie Ten Boom. Corrie Ten Boom was a Dutch Christian who, with her family, hid Jews from persecution during World War II before being arrested. If you haven’t read her story, I strongly encourage you to do so. “The Hiding Place” is her autobiography, but she also wrote many other books and spoke often of her experiences in a Nazi Concentration Camp.
My Corrie is just as bold, outspoken, tender and friendly. Although we don’t see each other much, she still holds quite a dear spot in my heart. She and her family are integral to mine. My daughter and her niece have been close friends since before either can remember. They think they “met” each other in second grade, and a few weeks later I recognized the niece’s parents. The girls had actually been playmates as infants and toddlers before Corrie had moved to New Zealand and then Hawaii. After returning “home” for a number of years, her family has embarked on a new adventure near Las Vegas. Close enough to visit! It’s funny how God strategically places people in your life for years until you can really connect.
So you know I’ve been on a Housecleaning kick lately. That, and prayer. Boy, have we been praying. The new favorite motto around here is, “If it’s not one thing, it’s another!” On Sunday I woke up too sick to get to church. But I saw on Facebook from some friends that the passage Pastor Tom was teaching on was Jeremiah 29:11. This is my Life Verse. So it was comforting that a few people posted it online. With everything that’s going on around here, it sure is nice to know that God has a plan!
After a little while, I managed to get out of bed. I decided to check my emails, and had a Daily Verse sent to me by one of our Christian stations, Air 1. It was the same verse.
Then I checked my Daily Bible app on my cell phone. Guess what. Same verse.
I’m thinking God wants me to not worry about the upcoming week, yah?
As with every day since I cleaned house a few weeks ago, I try to accomplish one Writing Task (Not Blog Related). So far I’m doing well. Tonight I decided to sort through the last remaining paperwork. I had taken all my old notes and scraps and put them in the cat pillow decorative box.
But I hadn’t sorted it out yet. So tonight I did. While Dot printed off her Biology homework, I began a trip down Paperwork Lane.
And I’m so glad I did. I found a few cards and news clippings that I definitely want to keep. Tossed some old notes that are useless. And was reminded of several other story ideas for when Megan and I are finished with our nine (or more) book series.
And I found this bookmark. I’d been looking at the Pansy flowers often when I opened the box, but the bookmark was paperclipped to some old notes I hadn’t looked at yet.
Can you see how Pansies look like Angels with their arms outstretched, and their lovely flowing gowns?
Tonight, I unclipped and turned it over, recalling that I’d see a note from Corrie. I’d long ago forgotten exactly what she’d written. And tonight, I was reminded of love from her, and Him.
I don’t remember exactly when Corrie made that bookmark for me, but I know it’s been at least 15 years. It’s always been one of my treasures, and now it’s holding my place in my Bible.
