Friday Book Pick -- Monster by Frank Peretti

Happy Friday to everyone! Are you looking for a good weekend read? Has the summer been a little too peaceful and lazy for you? Shake it up by reading Monster by Frank Peretti.

Frank Peretti is one of the best known Christian authors, best known for This Present Darkness and Piercing the Darkness, novels about spiritual warfare. He actually has 21 titles in print which include young adult and children's books along with his titles for adults.

Monster will take you deep into the backwoods of the Pacific Northwest where an unknown murderous creature is turning one couple's quest for adventure into a living nightmare. I made the mistake of reading this novel with my cell phone set to vibrate. When it went off, I actually shrieked. That's how well Peretti can pull you into his story. Check it out!

Nineveh or Iowa?

Yesterday I wrote about prayer and surrender. Often when I pray for something, I tell God what I want and then wait for Him to act. It usually isn't until I get tired and frustrated and say, "Okay, do what You want, God!" that I see real change.

It reminded me of something that happened in my life about five years ago. My husband was ready for a job change. After spending months looking at local and regional job listings, we finally gave in and started looking nation-wide. Well, maybe my husband gave in. I was mentally picking and choosing places where I could agree to moving.

The perfect job arrived. In Iowa.

Okay, I apologize if you live in Iowa or love Iowa. I know I'm going to insult someone by sharing this story. I actually visited Iowa during my college years and enjoyed it. But it wasn't my idea of the perfect place to live. It was a long ways from my family and it had NO ocean and NO mountains. It was very low on my list of places I wanted to live. I cried out to God, "Please, not Iowa. How about Colorado? California? Washington? Michigan?"

My husband pledged to trust in God's direction and began applying for the job. I moaned, whined and fussed at my husband and at God. Why would God want us to move to Iowa? What was there for us in Iowa? I don't WANT to go to Iowa! To God, I probably sounded like a sulky teenager. "Please God, someplace other than Iowa!"

Unfortunately, the job in Iowa was a perfect match for my husband's skills. I prayed for other job listings and spent hours in front of the computer searching. Nothing, zilch, Nada.

Then came the night that one of my kids dumped a book on my lap and clambered up. It was the story of Jonah and the Whale. I opened it and began reading.

"And God sent Jonah to Nineveh. But Jonah didn't trust God. He didn't want to go to Nineveh."

My heart broke. Was God sending me to Iowa? Did God have a great future planned for us there and I was saying, "No way?" I did a 180 degree turn (Well, maybe about 175). Not my will, God, but Yours. I would go. And what's more, I would rejoice in this opportunity. God was in control. I surrendered. I confessed my bad attitude to my husband (like he wasn't already aware of it) and over the next few days, God gave me an attitude adjustment. I began to get excited about the possibilities of our soon-to-be new hometown.

But a new surprise was on the horizon. Within the week, two more job openings popped up, both in our local region. One was a perfect match to my husband's skills and the job was less than 45 minutes away. Pieces fell into place quickly and my husband was offered the job.

I was a bit confused. "Um, God? I don't mean to complain... but what about Iowa? I thought you wanted us to go to Iowa?"

I felt a gentle nudging in my heart. "I wanted you to be willing to go to Iowa. I wanted you to trust me."

I still struggle with trust. I'd rather chart my own course. But, I am learning. Learning to surrender.

Surrendering to the Heat

I live in the Pacific Northwest, known for long dreary months of rain. The summers, on the other hand, are beautiful. From June to September, we have sunny, dry weather with temperatures in the 80s and low humidity.

These week has been a wee bit different. Yesterday's temperature in my home town reached a whopping 108 degrees.

Sunday afternoon, we discovered that our air conditioner had gasped and given up. Not good news with over 100 degree weather projected for the next several days. I tried to laugh it off. "We'll be fine. We grew up with out AC and we survived." But I frantically dialed the repairman.

The receptionist didn't sound very hopeful for a quick visit. We tried every do-it-yourself trick we could think of -- which wasn't much. Turned circuits off and on, looked for reset buttons, etc. We thought about getting a screwdriver out and taking the thing apart, but thought better of it. No need to turn a simple repair into one of those, "you need a new heat pump" kind of moments.
We waited around all day Monday watching the temperature in the house climb. I was nervous about leaving the house and going someplace cool, for fear that the repairman wouldn't bother to call my cell phone first. Finally my husband got home and I swept the kids out to late afternoon dentist appointments. Who ever thought that we would be so happy to go to the dentist!

Tuesday was worse. By then I was starting to doubt that we would EVER see the repair guy. The poor secretary couldn't give me a schedule. "He's getting around to everyone as quickly as he can." The worst part was the waiting. We could have handled the temperature, otherwise. But being at the mercy of someone else's schedule... that's tough.

It was also tough being the mom in this situation. I tried to model patience and a good attitude. "Let's not complain. God's in control. Let's try to make this fun!" I would say brightly. My kids, looking like half-melted ice cream cones, didn't agree. "This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it, (Psalm 118:24)" I silently repeated to myself.

When the temperature in the house reached 90 yesterday, my resolve cracked.

"That's it. I can't take it anymore. We're getting out of here." I grabbed my purse and keys. "Library, bowling alley, mall -- I don't care. Let's go!"

That's the exact moment when the phone rang. "I'm on my way!"

It reminded me of those times when I prayed for something over a long period of time and wondered if God was even listening. Sometimes it's not until I am at a breaking point that I feel Him move in my life. Why is that? Is God a procrastinator like me? Does He just like to toy with us?

I don't believe that's the case. I know He has plans and thoughts that I cannot hope to understand. "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." (Is 55:8-9) Just like I sometimes understand things better than my children, God understands the "big picture" better than I do.

Secondly, I believe He waits in order to develop my character and encourage me to fully trust in Him. If He just plunked everything my our lap every time I asked, I wouldn't learn or grow in my faith. I may even begin to think I deserve that type of treatment.

I'm still struggling with this idea, so I don't have all of the answers. But I've noticed at many points during my life, that God has waited until I am at a breaking point -- ready to surrender to His will -- before He has intervened. Maybe He waits until I am ready for Him to intervene in the way that He thinks is best, instead of on my terms. I often tell God what He needs to do.
Just like yesterday (when I was ready to surrender to the heat and the repairman showed up), when I surrender my will to God, that's often when I see amazing things start to happen.

Now a gentle cool breeze is wafting through my house. I pray that God's spirit is gently caressing your life in the same way.

Tomorrow I will share another tale of surrender. It seems to be a recurring theme in my life. What about you?

Friday Book Pick: Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller

I have a confession to make. Though I love to read, I avoid non-fiction books like the plague. I've learned over the years that it doesn't matter how intriguing the topic, after a few chapters (sometimes only a few pages), my eyes glaze over. I don't know why this happens to me. I have friends who feel the complete opposite. They feel that reading fiction is a waste of their time. If they're not going to learn something new, then why bother? For me, however, if there is no story or characters, it's not likely to hold my interest.

So, it was with trepidation that I picked up Donald Miller's Blue Like Jazz. I knew I should read it. It's one of those books that you hear people buzzing about wherever you go. "Have you read it? I couldn't believe it! Oh, you've got to read it..." It's one of those books you hear other books being compared to, "...it's almost as good as Blue Like Jazz." or "well, it's not Blue Like Jazz, but it's still pretty good." It's the same reason I read The Shack last year. Eventually you have to stop nodding and pretending like you understand and just get around to reading the actual book and finding out what everyone is buzzing about.

But, with my non-fiction-eye-glazing problem, I was very hesitant to read this one. The words on the cover, "Non-religious thoughts on Christian Spirituality," made me pause again. Non-religious thoughts? I thought this was a Christian book. And then there was that word "spirituality." That word takes me back to weighty college theology classes full of required reading out of lengthy midevil texts. Maybe that's where my non-fiction difficulties started.

But, I decided it had to be done. I bought the book and then tucked it in my bag while I escorted my kids to the playland at McDonald's. McDonald's is not the best place for serious study, so I didn't hold out high hopes for getting very far in the book. That was before I opened it. I was a few chapters in before I knew what was happening.

Reading Donald Miller's writing doesn't feel like study. It's more like sitting down to coffee with a friend. He shares humorous (and not-so-humorous) stories from his life and what they taught him about God, faith, community, sin, politics and people. The book is full of story and characters. He voices concerns about the "church" and "religious people" that I have often felt, but never been able to put into words. I didn't agree with everything he said. But, like when you sit and banter with a friend over coffee -- you don't expect to agree about everything. And yet, while you listen and discuss things, it helps you to understand your friend better and also to seriously consider why you believe the way you do.

I am proud (and a tinge relieved) to say that I read all the way through Blue Like Jazz. So if you have my same non-fiction-eye-glazing-over predicament, you can pick up this book without fear. It's definitely an eye-opening look at Christianity. It might offend you in places and it might inspire you in others. But it will definitely make you think. And that's a great thing.

So, now I understand why everyone buzzes excitedly about this book. It is a must-read for anyone who is interested in sharing their faith with non-Christians. And now, I can be the one to say, "Well, (insert book title here) is no Blue Like Jazz, but it's pretty good." Then I will look around to see who is nodding.

Off to camp!

I'm heading off to camp this weekend!

After sending my son to Tadmor Christian Camp earlier this summer for a week of mud, water, campfire, friendship and spiritual growth; now it's MY turn! I can't wait to sit around the cabin with other women from our church, talking about our lives and families. I can't wait to worship with women from other churches and listen to our wonderful keynote speaker Carol Trent. I can't wait to splash in the lake, take our turn at serving in the cafeteria and spend my canteen money on iced lattes. I may even try the zipline this year. My son assures me that I'd survive. But frankly, I think I'll skip the mudpit. I think that's more for the 9-14 year old set. The last thing we need is a bunch of middle-aged women covered in mud. Mud facials, maybe. But mud everywhere? I don't think that's going to happen.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Will Write for Chocolate!

Whoever said that Twitter and Facebook are collosal time-wasters was probably right. But thanks to one of these sites, I made a great discovery this week. The website "Will Write For Chocolate" is the brainchild of writer/cartoonist Debi Ridpath Ohi, who obviously uses cartooning as an emotional release from the pressure of writing. Or, maybe uses writing as an emotional release from the pressure of cartooning?

If you are a writer, or interested in the writing process, I am sure that you will enjoy her blog. I enjoyed almost every strip, but this one spoke to where I am at the present. If it's too small to read, click on the image and it should show it larger.

Have a great Tuesday, everyone. And here's wishing you a peak to your roller-coaster...

Potty Talk!

It is such a struggle in today's world to protect your child's ears and eyes from words that are harmful to them. I always cringe when I hear people swearing in public or I see rude things written on park picnic tables. I know that they are just words and that they have no real power except that which we give them -- but as a Mom, I feel it is my job to keep my kids naive to such things.

When my kids were younger, we referred to them as "Potty words" or "Potty talk." My son went through a phase (like most boys) where he loved to use simple potty words (not the real bad stuff, just the basics like "poop") for shock value. Kids think these things are so funny. We finally resorted to sending him to the bathroom every time he said one of these words. "Well, you MUST have to go if you're talking like that!" He eventually stopped. Well, mostly anyway.

So, when we were at our local children's museum (the A. C. Gilbert's Discovery Museum), I was quite surprised to hear my little girl -- about five at the time -- shout from the bathroom stall: "MOM! THERE'S POTTY WORDS ON THE WALLS IN HERE!"

As usual, I cringed. "Just don't look honey!"

"I can't help it, they're right in front of me!"

"Just use the potty, sweetie. Don't read the walls."

Imagine my shock when she calls back, "And there's PICTURES, too!"

I stormed in there, ready to blindfold my child and lead her to safety. Who would possible desecrate the bathroom of a children's museum of all places? It's not like we were at a bus station or something!

When I saw the offending wall, I about wet my own pants. With laughter. Yes -- there WERE potty words on the wall. And the children's museum may be the only place you would find these type of potty words. I'll attach the photo. If you are easily offended... well, you've been warned!

Related Posts: I can't believe this, but I've actually blogged twice before about my kids and bad words. If you care to read them, check out "Hot Chicks and Bad Words" and "The Principal's Office."

P.S. If you happened to be following the story of Freedom the butterfly (see the posts: Power of a Name and It is for Freedom...), well, she's finally free. She's winging her way around her Maker's heaven as we speak. The words from one of my favorite old songs seemed appropriate to her short life. "Some bright morning when this life is over, I'll fly away. To that home on God's celestial shore, I'll fly away, Oh glory, I'll fly away. When I die, Hallelujah by and by -- I'll fly away." Maybe heaven is a little more beautiful today -- decorated by one more beautiful pair of wings.

Friday Book Pick -- Ashes and Ice by Tracie Peterson

I believe I may have stumbled upon a writer that I must add to my list of "favorites." I am a sucker for books that are written in series format, especially historical romances. It is always so hard for me to say goodbye to characters at the end of a novel. Knowing that the characters return in another book always gives me a sense of peace -- that "and life goes on" sort of feeling. I guess I was always the sort of kid that wanted to know what happened after "happily ever after."

After reading the book City of Angels by Tracie Peterson and James Scott Bell (see my Friday Book Pick from June 19), I decided to try another of Peterson's books. I went into my local library and was astounded by the long shelf of books all bearing her name. She has authored over 70 books, most of them in the historical fiction genre and many of them are three-book series. I felt like a kid at the candy store!

Today I am recommending The Yukon Quest series. I read book 2, Ashes and Ice. (I was unable to get my hands on book one, so I'll have to play catch-up later). I was intrigued by this series because of its setting: the Yukon gold rush. Women struggling to survive in this rugged environment and difficult time in history sounded like a great setting for an adventurous story and Peterson didn't let me down. Her characters grappled with loss and grief, revenge and forgiveness, and challenging marital relationships.

Here is the back-cover copy to give you a better idea of the storyline:
Heartbroken by loss, Karen Pierce is bound by a promise to watch over two young adults in her care. Together they journey north to the goldfields with the determined Adrik Ivankov as their guide. Will Karen find her way back to her once solid-faith...and into Adrik's arms?

Ashes and Ice makes a great summer read. If you enjoy historical romance and haven't read Tracie Peterson before (or even if you have), I encourage you to pick up this book. Reading a little Yukon romance may bring a nice cool breeze to your hot summer day!

If You Ruled The World?

One of my favorite children's musicians is John McCutcheon. He has a great kid's ditty called "If I ruled the World."

If I ran the world, everything would change. The food and toy stores would be free with door to door delivery. Oh, what a party it would be...if I ran the world.

If I ran the world each kid would have a bike, a swimming hole not far from home, a bedroom of their very own. No one would have to play alone... if I ran the world.

If I ran the world all homework would be banned, our school week would be just one day, and all the rest we’d have for play. I’d triple every teacher’s pay... if I ran the world.

If I ran the world there’d be no underwear, I’d never comb my hair, peace would break out everywhere!

If I ran the world each meal would have ice cream, the faucets would run juice and stuff, the tofu farms would have it rough, and everyone would have enough... if I ran the world.

If I ran the world I’d never change my socks, my bedtime would be late at night, there’s always be a hallway light. Whatever’s wrong I’d make it right... if I ran the world.

Whatever’s wrong we’d make it right... if we ran the world.
(©1992 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP) & Joe Hill Music (ASCAP))

So what would happen if YOU ran the world?

Of course, we could all come up with lofty and worthwhile dreams like ending world hunger and child abuse and such. But what sort of silly things would you like to change? Call on your inner child and ask him/her.

Mine says that everyone needs a tire swing. Adults should have their own playgrounds and "bouncy houses."

Also, everyone should have a summer vacation, including people who work full-time. We were fortunate growing up -- my dad was able to take the entire month of July for his vacation time. It was nice to have that time together as a family, even if it meant painting the house or some other big project. Now I see so many kids spending the summers in childcare or summer-long daycamps and it makes me sad. I know they get to do a lot of fun stuff, and I've never heard these kids complain about it. But it seems like summer should be a lazy time of playing in the backyard... reading books, chasing bugs, playing in the sprinkler -- being a kid. Of course, I remember often saying, "Moooom, I'm booooored!" I know most families do not have a choice on this matter, so please don't flame me. It just makes me a little nostalgic for times gone by.

On a side note... Do you know what I saw yesterday that floored me? On-line summer camp. Wow. I'm sure they have great, educational programs and all -- but, wow. I'm trying to chase my kids off of the computer and get them to go play OUTSIDE! :)

So, what does your inner child want?

The Pull of History

I laughed out loud the other day when I read a Facebook post from another writer who mentioned being sucked into the "black hole" of historical research. It's a pull I've been fighting myself. Somehow, when I read historical fiction, it never dawns on me the hours that writers put into getting the historical background correct. People are much the same --we dream, feel, hurt in much the same way throughout the centuries (though our responses may differ). But the details about language, clothing, culture, technology, historical events, and so on... Those can really trip you up.

But with the gift of the internet and google, historical research has never been simpler. You can find all kinds of interesting anecdotes. You can literally eat up hours poking around in strange websites that can teach you all kinds of obscure (and potentiall incorrect) information.

Here are some of the things I've learned recently about life in 1906 (the setting for my novel, Shaken.)

Women used to collect hairs from their brushes and keep them in a small box to make into "rats" or "topsies;" hairpieces that would help fluff out their large pompadour hairstyles. They also used hair to make jewelry and artwork. These were especially valuable in times of mourning.

Corsets were not only worn during the day, but women slept in them as well. They starting wearing them at a young age (perhaps 8 or 9 years). In 1906, the popular style was the "S-shape," which pushed your bosom forward and your rear... well, to the rear.

Leukemia was originally treated with arsenic. Around 1900, they started experimental treatments with x-ray radiation. Unfortunately, most doctors tested the x-ray levels on their own skin. They needed it to be set so that the skin would be slightly reddened after treatment. Many of these doctors later died from the disease they were seeking to cure.

San Francisco (and other cities) had a medical school which trained women doctors during the early 1900s.

During the massive fire of 1906, firemen used anything available to battle the flames. The water mains were broken, so they used dynamite, sewage, sea-water and even liquor from a distillery to try to fight the fire.

Even language has changed over the years. I have heard many humorous stories of writers being chastised for using the term "okay," which is considered "modern" slang. Apparently the term dates to the 1830s when it was fashionable for Boston newspapers to shorten common phrases to initials. Think of today's "lol" (laugh out loud) and "bff" (best friend forever) that has come out of the texting and instant messaging craze. People especially enjoyed them if the initials were used incorrectly. In the case of "OK," it stood for "all correct" or "oll korrect." It was then taken up as a battle cry for Martin Van Buren's 1840 bid for re-election. His nickname was Old Kinderhook (OK) and his supporters claimed that it was the job of the democrat party "to make all things ok." This caught the nation's fancy and the term ok... later to be written "okay" became common vernacular.

So, here's hoping that your week is "OK." Have a great one!

Writing Update

I know, I know... I've been strangely quiet this week! With my kids off to camp this week (well, one off to camp, the other at Grandma's & Grandpa's), I spent the days focusing on my re-write of Shaken. I'm still trying to hit the 60K word goal set for me by two agents at the Mount Hermon Christian Writer's Conference and I'm finally within 2000 words of my goal. I am as pleased as punch, let me tell you! And the best part is that the story is so much better than before. The characters are sparkling, the plot more "twisty" and the action more lively than it was 28k words ago. I don't feel like I've been "padding" the story to reach a word goal. Every time I add a scene, I end up thinking, "Of course! That HAS to be in there."

I have a few people who will critique it for me, then a little more re-writing and hopefully it will be ready to send to those agents. I've also had some inspiration that could potentially expand Shaken into a three-part series.

So, I hope you'll excuse the quiet week -- it's been well worth it.

For those of you wondering about the progress of "Freedom" the butterfly (see the butterfly saga in the posts The Power of a Name and It is for Freedom... ) she is still in her bungalow with a crumpled wing. We're feeding her daily and right now she is on the back porch enjoying some fresh air. Unless God intervenes in her life, she will live out the rest of her days with us. Every time she tries to fly, she ends up upside down on the floor of her tent. I told her not to feel too bad. That's what happens to me when I try to fly, too.

Have a great fourth of July weekend everyone!